


Just That Side of True: A Donutverse Interlude

by knittycat99, nubianamy



Series: The Donutverse [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Donutverse, Friendship, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Slash, Romance, Slash, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 62,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Schuester takes care of his family and friends, and all of the kids in Glee Club. Who takes care of him?  Will/OMC (Toby), Brad/OFC/OFC (Andi, Laurie).  Warnings for m/m sexual situations and polyamory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2009 - 31 years old - Lima, OH

**Author's Note:**

> This story sprang from the Donutverse subplot of Brad Ellis and his two wives, and wondering what it was like when he and Will Schuester were best friends as kids. My cowriter and fantastic plotter knittycat99 and I decided that they went to the same performing arts camp together (Baldwin-Wallace) every summer starting in fourth grade. That's where Will met his friend Toby. And the rest is (over 50,000 words of) history. It runs parallel to the very end of Waking Dreams and then alongside Bending in the Archer's Hand for a while. You can read it as a stand-alone piece, but it informs the Donutverse, and there are spoilers for that series here.
> 
> There's a [picspam of Will and Toby](http://www.flickr.com/photos/nubianamy/6110704201/), for those of you who are visual like me (with the part of Toby played by the delicious Dave Annable). You can read [more about my thoughts on Toby](http://nubianamy.tumblr.com/post/42142981649/i-have-very-carefully-dissociated-myself-from-dave), and find links to all mentions of him, at the Donutverse page on tumblr. 
> 
> And, if you want to fully immerse yourself in the pool of Will/Toby angst, you'll want to listen to the excellent playlist. You can [download it from Mediafire](http://www.mediafire.com/?o5bffuyn5ztvnk2), or [listen live on Youtube](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc72s_nGT2ySEJH9UchC1hL4QTjT149yb).
> 
> I am so proud to bring you this story about Will and Toby. Please, enjoy. -amy

Will was lonely much of the time, but he didn’t let himself really go there until the lights were out and he’d had at least two fingers of scotch, and the house was still and quiet.  He could sit on the couch, when things were like this, and almost feel Toby’s hand on his leg.  It didn’t even hurt too much to have to wait for that.  He knew he’d feel it again as soon as they could arrange another weekend.

Now that Terri was gone, it was easier to find time to wallow in the loneliness. She’d always filled the space with her chatter, her energy and her Pottery Barn kitsch.  Without her around, there was just so much more room for silence.  Will filled it with memories of Toby.

He knew Toby would be a dancer before Toby did.  That’s often the way it was with them: Will would understand Toby, and Toby would understand Will, even when they couldn’t see their own truths.  He could see dancing was part of Toby, as natural as breathing, as much a part of him as his walnut-brown hair, or his mild Kentucky accent, or his quick temper, or the tiny scar behind his right ear.  Toby needed to dance every day, even more than he needed to eat breakfast or brush his teeth.  If he didn’t, Will knew he would get antsy and distractable, his eyes straying from their conversation, his attention a mile away.  Then Will would take him by the hand and walk him downstairs to the studio with a bottle of water and a towel, and kiss him firmly, and go read a book or nap for an hour.  Will didn’t mind these little siestas because he knew that Toby would come out of them with renewed energy for everything they did together – that, plus then he had an excuse to take Toby into the shower and wash his incredible body.

Will discovered the scar the first time he kissed Toby’s neck, on the last day of eighth grade music camp.  They didn’t talk for almost a year after that, but when Will saw him again, the first thing he did was to look for the scar.  Seeing it was really there, after that year of wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing, almost scared him more than kissing Toby again.

Will could close his eyes and map each part of Toby in his head.  His expressive brown eyes were usually full of mischief and quiet good humor, and he had dynamic eyebrows that could show every part of his feelings or mask them entirely.  His dark hair was usually short, but sometimes Toby would forget and grow it out long enough to fringe his face.  It would get spiky with sweat from a rigorous game of racquetball or a dance rehearsal or frenzied coupling in Will’s hotel room.  Now the brown was dusted with grey, but his face still looked as young to Will as it had when they’d been at Baldwin-Wallace together.

Toby was the last of their BW music camp friends to start growing facial hair in tenth grade, and he refused to shave it clean until well into college, when a director demanded he wear his baby face for the part he was playing.  It threw Will the first time he saw Toby shave his scruffy beard, standing shirtless before the mirror in Toby’s upstairs bathroom, slowly scraping the stubble and shaving cream away to reveal the white skin of his narrow jaw.  Will almost didn’t recognize him.  The skin felt unbelievably smooth against the inside of his thighs, though, which was a benefit he hadn’t considered until then, but after that Toby would often shave his face before coming to pick him up at the airport.  It became one of their many inside jokes: Will knew what Toby was thinking about doing to him when he saw Toby standing in the terminal with a clean shave and a teasing smile.

Toby had a sweet yellow lab-retriever mix named Annie, a runty little dog who would sit under the table waiting until Will got up to feed her in the morning.  He had no idea what Annie did on the rest of the three hundred and thirty-six days of the year, when Toby was there by himself and didn’t get up for work until well after noon, but she apparently had a bladder of steel because even on those days when they slept in a little (Will couldn’t stay in bed later than 8:30), she stayed under that table until Will got her a scoop of kibble and located her leash to take her for a walk.  Then she would dance around and lick his face and wag her tail, stepping lightly down the sidewalk for Will as though he were her owner.  He never would have told Toby this, but Annie reminded him a little of Toby when he was excited, bouncing on his toes and talking a mile a minute.

Toby’s voice had always been a source of frustration for him.  The kids teased him for his high speaking voice, even back in elementary school when they all had high voices.  It had a light breathy quality, and a certain fabulousness that marked Toby early for a career in musical theater, and he’d never been able to curb a tendency to giggle when he was nervous.  Because he was witty, it was usually easy for him to accept any teasing with reasonable aplomb, to make it into a joke that everyone could laugh at.  Nor was Toby generally given to excessive displays of emotion – a quality he joked was just about the only factor that took him out of the running for Most Stereotypical Gay Man.  Yet Will could still sense that his voice bothered him, even long after he had left the daily ribbing of schoolmates behind.

Toby had a comfortable tenor singing range, and his voice was melodic but unremarkable, without any of Will’s power or control. Will was a vocal snob; he knew it -- and so he couldn’t explain why the sound of Toby singing in the shower or along with his iPod always reduced him to a slumped, quivering mess.  Toby always insisted on singing happy birthday to him over the phone on his birthday, and on those years when he did it when Will was at work, he usually had to go home early and blame his streaming eyes on spring allergies.  When Will had a bad day at work, or back when his marriage was particularly trying, Will would call Toby and just listen to him talk, relaxing into the sweet tones mixed with cutting humor.

Toby’s sense of humor would send Will into paroxysms of laughter, in a way that no one else could do for him.  Something about the way his eyebrows and his lips moved in perpendicular motion just made him crack up.  And then Toby would stop, and fix him with his stare, and Will’s stomach would turn over and he’d have to make a joke just to keep from panicking. It wasn’t a feeling Will was used to having, being out of control like that, and he didn’t really care for it.  It didn’t keep him from wanting to be with Toby, but he could only take a few days of it before he would need to get back on the plane to Lima.

In the summer, Will would sometimes book a ticket to fly to the city where Toby was performing. He’d done this more than once; more than ten times.  Maybe, say, two dozen times.  He’d get a ticket for the balcony and sit by himself, in his second-best tux, and watch Toby dance, through his opera glasses.  Toby was magnificent, of course, and watching him without Toby even knowing he was in the audience did something to him, made him crazy hard, like he was sixteen again and they were flirting with each other in the auditorium, performing for each other.  Will would go back to his hotel room and jack off to thoughts of Toby’s strong legs, his shoulders, his remarkable poise and control, and on those occasions he didn’t even feel guilty about doing it, it was just so _necessary._   He’d fly home the next day, and no one would know he’d been gone.

Sometimes, on these nights while thinking of Toby, Will would stop after two fingers of scotch, and on those nights he would go to bed early, his memories carrying into dreams, usually good ones.  Other times he would indulge in rather more than that, and on those days he would be certain to turn off his cell phone and hide it from himself, to avoid any  instances of drunk dialing.  If he accidentally called someone from school and said something that indicated who he’d _really_ been trying to call, he’d be in a very different state.

Because no matter how many times Toby offered to come visit, Will always found an excuse, always managed to redirect things back to Toby’s home in Denver or a lovely vacation destination, far away from Lima.  Because Will’s life in Lima and Will’s life with Toby were not going to touch; never had and never would.  Because Will was straight, after all, and nothing was going to change that. 


	2. 1988, 9 Years Old, Baldwin-Wallace music camp

“Willie, don’t worry,” his mother said, combing his hair back from his face.  It was too long, and the curls made him feel like a girl, but they hadn’t had time to get it cut before the long drive out to music camp.  “You’re going to have a great time.”

“I know, mom,” he said, pushing her hand away.

“Two weeks isn’t so long,” she continued, and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m nine, not five,” he scoffed.  “I’m not worried.”

He wasn’t, not really.  Not about being away from home.  It was being away from all his friends that was worrying him.  The only other person he knew from Lima who was coming to Baldwin-Wallace was that weird quiet kid, Bradley.  He never talked in class, and on the playground he was always pretending to be a Star Trek alien or something.  He was going to be alone, and he hated being alone.

“You’ll make lots of new friends,” said his dad, reading his mind.  He grinned at his dad.  His dad was quiet, but he understood Willie.

His mom, on the other hand, just wanted to tell him what to do.  “You should try out for the honors choir,” she said.  “What’s that called?  Cantata singers.  Remember we saw it in the brochure?  You’re a very good singer, Willie, and that’d be a great opportunity for you.  Really showcase your talent.”

Willie knew he was a pretty good singer.  He had a good sense of pitch and rhythm.  His grandfather had taught him how to play the ukulele, which was kind of a stupid instrument, but was actually pretty fun to play.

“I’m not here for singing, mom,” he said.  “I’m in the musical theater group.”

“It’s all the same,” she said, waving her hand.  “Barry, get Willie’s bag.  Let’s go in and get you registered – I think this is the right building.”

They trundled through the door.  Will felt like a total loser with his mom leading the way, so he stepped up in front of her and found himself face to face with a dark-haired boy, just about his age.  “Hi,” he said.

“Hi there,” said the boy, smiling. His voice was high, like a girl’s, and he kind of acted like a girl, too, but he had a nice smile.  “My name’s Toby.  Are you here for the music camp?”

“Theater.”  He stuck out his hand, the way his mother had taught him.  “I’m Willie.”

“Well, ain’t that a kick in the pants,” Toby said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“You’ve got a funny way of talking,” Willie said.

Toby’s smile shut off like a light switch.  “That ain’t polite,” he said.  “Just because a boy has a girl’s voice don’t mean you should point it out.”

“I don’t mean that,” Willie protested.  He brushed his curls off his forehead impatiently.  “I mean – saying ‘ain’t’ and stuff. Where are you from?”

“Goose Creek, Kentucky,” he said promptly.  “How about you?”

“Lima, here in Ohio.”  Willie cocked his head.  “Kentucky – that’s why you talk like that.  I really wasn’t trying to make fun of you, honest.”

“Sayin’ a boy has a funny way of talking?  That sounds like poking fun to me.”  But Toby was smiling again, a little sideways smile that made Willie want to smile too.  “You know where you’re staying yet?”

“No, I just got here.  I have to get registered and find out who my roommate is.”  He looked over at his mother, who was talking a mile a minute and filling out some paperwork, and his dad, standing quietly behind her, just waiting.  “C’mere.”  He took Toby’s hand and tugged him over to his dad. “Dad – this is Toby.”

“Hello, Toby,” his dad said, smiling.  Toby shook his hand.

“Hello, sir,” Toby said.

“Willie?  Come on over here,” his mother called, beckoning.  “It says here your roommate’s named Dustin.  He’s not here yet.  You get your choice of top or bottom bunk, that way, right?  Let’s go find your room.”

“Uh –“  Willie looked at Toby, hanging back, and at the book where his roommate’s name was written.  He looked at his mother, all ready to take charge, and his father, waiting to let things happen to him.  _I get to decide what I want here,_ he thought, suddenly, and he found himself saying, “Can – can I change my roommate?  I want Toby to be my roommate.  Can’t we just change it in the book?”

The girl at the desk looked at the book and shrugged.  “Sure,” she said.  “I don’t see why not.”

Toby’s smile lit up his whole face, and he grabbed Will’s arm excitedly, letting out a silly, high-pitched giggle.  It made Will feel like shouting with happiness, but he didn’t, because then everybody would look at him.  He was glad to have found a friend, though.

“Good choice, son,” his dad said quietly, and for the first time all day, Will felt proud of himself.

  


***

“That’s Bradley,” Willie said, pointing at the white-blonde boy across the auditorium.  “He goes to my school too.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Toby said, in his gentle, slow voice.  Willie liked listening to him talk.  “You’re lucky you have each other.”

“No way,” said Willie, making a face.  “Bradley?  He’s not my friend, or anything.”

“You should be.  There ain’t no other person at my school who understands about music the way the kids here do.”  He gazed across the room at Bradley, tapping a thoughtful finger on his chin.  “You shouldn’t take that for granted.”

“Bradley doesn’t ever talk at school,” Willie said, looking uncertain.  “I don’t even know what he’s thinking most of the time.”

“Well, then,” said Toby, taking Willie’s arm and leading him across the auditorium, “that’s a good reason to ask him, ain’t it?”

He drew up short in front of Bradley, who blinked up at them from the piano bench in confusion.  “Hi there,” Toby said, flashing his brilliant smile.  Brad smiled faintly back.  “I’m Toby.”

“Bradley,” he said, making Willie blink.  He turned to Willie and grinned.  “Hey, _Will.”_

“Um,” said Willie, staring at Bradley.  Then he grinned back.  “Hey, _Brad.”_

“Did you already audition for Cantata?” Bradley asked.  “Because you definitely should.”

“Yeah?” Willie said, surprised again.  “You think so?”

Bradley looked at Toby.  “Have you _heard_ this guy?  He’s a great singer.  He sounds just like Chris DeBurgh.”

“Damn,” Toby said, looking appreciatively at Willie. “Can you sing that song, Lady in Red?”

“Sure,” Willie said, shrugging. Bradley flexed his fingers and played the opening chords.  “What – you mean, _right now?”_

“Yeah,” said Toby, leaning on the piano, giving Willie that little sideways smile.  Willie blushed and looked at his feet, trying to remember all the words.  “I’ve never seen…” Toby prompted, and at Willie’s hesitation, began to sing:

  


 _I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight_

 _I've never seen you shine so bright_

 _I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance_

 _They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance_

  


Willie stared at Toby, singing to him as though it was the most natural thing in the world.  He was expressive and confident, and Willie hadn’t realized it until just now, but he was more than a little handsome.

“Will, _sing,”_ Bradley hissed, poking him with his foot.  Willie gulped and jumped in in the middle of the first verse, to sing along with Toby:

  


 _I have never seen that dress you're wearing_

 _Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes_

 _I have been blind_

He improvised some harmonies, which threw Toby for a minute, but Bradley jumped in to sing the melody and then Toby got it, and he was able to hang on until the end of the chorus:

  


 _Lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek_

 _There's nobody here, it's just you and me_

 _It's where I wanna be_

 _But I hardly know this beauty by my side_

 _I'll never forget, the way you look tonight_

  


Willie realized they were surrounded by several spectators, other kids he recognized from chorus and from improv class.  They were all gazing at Toby and Willie with adoring eyes.  Willie started to ham it up a little, giving Toby a grin, and Toby went right along with it, emoting to Willie in a very realistic way:

 _I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight_

 _I've never seen you shine so bright you were amazing_

 _I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side_

 _And when you turned to me and smiled, It took my breath away_

 _I have never had such a feeling_

 _Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight_

  


Toby’s eyes caught Willie’s and for a moment, he forgot the next lyrics.  Willie just stood there, watching him across the piano, his mind blank, except for the thought: _Wow.  He’s really good._

“The way you look tonight,” sang Bradley, and they completed the song together, the three of them singing to the admiration of a whole flock of their peers:

 _The way you look tonight_

 _I never will forget, the way you look tonight_

 _The lady in red_

  


“I love you,” whispered Toby, his head in one hand, leaning on his elbow.  Willie blinked, and it took him several seconds to realize that that Toby was simply saying the last lyric, which Chris DeBurgh had whispered on the radio, too.

“Oh,” cried one of the girls, “that was _so great!”_   She looked at Willie with excitement and hope.  “Do you know ‘Glory of Love?’”

“Oh, Jesus H. Christ, that’s the lamest song in the entire universe,” sighed a short girl with brown hair.  She was so tiny, Willie could only see part of her around the edge of the upright piano, but what little he could see was irritated.  “How about ‘Dancing on the Ceiling?’”

Bradley immediately began to play that piano part, but the rest of their audience quickly shouted it down.  “’Greatest Love of All!’ ‘The Next Time I Fall!’ ‘Sledgehammer!’”  Bradley gamely kept up with each request, playing just a smattering of the introduction before the next piece took its place, making Toby giggle harder with each song.

“Bradley,” Toby remarked airily, “is there any little piece you _can’t_ play?”

Bradley thought about this.  “I’m not sure,” he said.  “I can listen to a song and pretty much figure out how to play it.”

“Just like that?” Willie was impressed.  “I don’t think I could even do that, singing a song.  You can do it on the piano?”

“Well, I have perfect pitch,” Bradley said, just matter-of-fact, as though he were commenting on Toby’s shoes.

“Oh yeah?  Prove it,” said the short girl.  “Sing an E flat.”  Bradley did, and the girl played the note on the piano.  “Neat,” she said, grudgingly.

“I bet that gets annoying,” Willie said.  “Nobody’s in tune all the time.”

“ _I_ am,” said Bradley.

“Are you guys practicing for the talent show?” asked the short girl.  “Because it would be really fun to do a quartet with you.  Do you guys know any Billy Joel?”

“Toby,” Willie cried, patting the piano in excitement, “we could do ‘The Longest Time.’  That would be totally rad.”

“Um, except there _is_ no piano part to that,” Bradley pointed out. “How about ‘Piano Man?’”

Billy Joel kept them busy for the greater part of the afternoon, and by the time they looked at the clock, it was coming on 4 pm.  “We should probably get ready for the all-camp meeting,” said the short girl, whose name had turned out to be Andi.  “I’ll see you guys there.  This was really fun,” she added, leaning in to Bradley and squeezing his arm.  Bradley’s smile hung on for several minutes after that.

“She likes you,” said Willie to Bradley, later.  Bradley blushed crimson and shrugged his shoulders, but he seemed pleased.

“That’s okay with you, isn’t it?” asked Bradley, a little anxiously.  “I mean, _you_ don’t like her, right?”

“No, she’s all yours,” Willie gestured magnanimously.  He wasn’t exactly sure what his type was, but it wasn’t the petite brunette.

“Thanks,” said Bradley, grinning.

“What are friends for?” Willie asked, and he realized it was true.

  


***

  


Toby said he preferred the bottom bunk, so that left Willie to climb the ladder to the top.  He was a little uncertain about being up so high off the ground, and the bunk bed was a little wobbly, but he didn’t say anything about it to Toby.

“You want first turn in the bathroom?” Toby said, and he wandered out wearing striped pajamas that only went down to his knees.  Willie thought they looked pretty silly on him, but Toby didn’t seem to be embarrassed.  He was confident about everything, Willie thought.  That could have made him seem stuck-up, but with Toby, it just made him nicer.

“You go ahead,” Willie said, trying not to look too worried.  He was anxious about doing things like brushing his teeth or changing clothes in front of another boy.  He didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and his cousins lived far away in another town.  His friends at school would never be allowed to have a sleepover party.  This would be his first night sleeping away from home, ever.  The thought made him more than a little nervous.

“What classes are you taking?” Willie called to Toby through the half-closed door.

“Um… jazz dance, and music theory, and piano.  And chorus, of course.”

“You have a nice voice,” Willie said, a little more quietly.

There was no appropriate answer to that, but Willie could hear the water running in the sink.  The water shut off, and  Toby popped his head out, smiling.

“Thanks,” he said.  “You, too.  We sound good together.”  The word _good_ was long and raunchy-sounding, when Toby said it in his breathy, kind-of-girly voice.  It made Willie feel a little funny.

“We’ll have jazz dance together,” he said.  “That’ll be interesting.  My mom says I need to take some dance classes in order to be able to compete in theater.”

“I like to dance, I guess,” Toby shrugged.  “I’ve never done much dancing, other than some square dance at church functions, that kind of thing.  I think I’m fixin’ to have a hard time of it, everyone else having more experience than me.”

Toby and Willie exchanged places, awkwardly, Toby edging out of the bathroom and Will edging in, laughing a little.  Willie brushed his teeth in a daze, thinking of tomorrow’s classes, of Bradley and Andi and Toby and how much he already felt like this was more of a home than he’d ever had in Lima.  Then he thought, _Bradley – Brad – he’ll be there at home, too,_ and he felt a little better.

At home he slept in a t-shirt and shorts, but he was shivering when he came out of the bathroom.  The light was out.  He could see Toby’s still form under the covers in the bottom bunk.  “Willie?” Toby said, sounding small in the dark.

“Yeah?”

“Would you come sit with me for a spell?  I’m feelin’ a little anxious.  A warm body’d do me some good.”  He held out his hand.  “Please?” 

Willie didn’t care much about how it seemed for two boys to be in a bed together; he just climbed right in, and pulled the covers up over both of them.  Toby sighed and reached Willie’s arm across his chest, like he was wrapping up in a cloak.   He felt safe and warm.

“This is just about the nicest thing we’ve done all day,” Toby said with satisfaction, and Willie had no disagreement.  They fell asleep that way, spooned in the bottom bunk, and most nights afterwards, that’s how they slept.

Years afterwards, when Will and Toby discussed this, they could never remember who was the outside spoon, but Will thought it must have been Toby, because he could remember waking in the middle of the night to Toby’s erection pressed into the small of his back.  They weren’t yet at the point where their erections made a mess of their bed – that didn’t come until eighth grade, when everything changed for them – but based on Toby’s noises, he was enjoying himself.   Willie didn’t do that, because his mother had said it was shameful, but he thought maybe it wasn’t shameful to enjoy _Toby_ enjoying it, so he didn’t say anything, just held his arms tight around his slim body, and didn’t let go.

  

  




	3. 1992 - 14 years old

** Goose Creek, KY **   
  
Toby hadn’t been sure what to expect when his father found him washing the worst of the blood and dirt away in the kitchen sink.  His dad just watched, silently, as Toby scrubbed at his arms until the water ran cool and clear, watched him dab at his hairline with an old torn undershirt from the rag box, studied the darkening bruise on Toby’s cheekbone that was surely going to be the better part of a black eye come morning.

“Third time since Halloween,” he dad nodded at him.

Toby nodded back at him.  “Yessir.”

“Same boys?”  His dad was nothing if not a man of few words.

“Yeah.  They took exception.  Same as before.”  Toby swallowed around the memory of the taunts that had followed him down the hall after school, the names for things he couldn’t control.

“You fight back?”   You stand up like a man would have been the more appropriate question.

“Enough to keep from being beaten silly, if that’s where you’re going.  It was five on one.”  Toby watched his dad hang his head, in either shame or disappointment.

“Can’t you be more like the others?”  It was the same thing his dad had been telling him for years.

“Try what, Dad?  Playing sports, hunting?  That isn’t who I am, and we both know it.  So please.  Just stop.”  Toby wheeled from the sink and stalked up the hall to toss the bloody rag into the hamper.

“But nobody needs to know that.”  Toby didn’t think he’d ever heard his father pleading before.  It was unnerving.

“I can’t hide it.”  Toby let his voice soften as his dropped his head back against the wall outside the laundry room.  He wasn’t angry at his dad.  Disappointed, maybe, but not angry.  He thought about this last year of middle school, about whether he’d be more or less visible come September at the large regional high school.  And he thought about his little family at B-W, perhaps the only place he ever really fit.  But not the only place he ever  could fit.  “I just need to be with people who understand.”   Will , his head was screaming, but he had to shut it out.

Toby watched his dad scuff up the hall.  “Your mama and I, we’ve been talkin’, and there’s this school, down in Lexington, says they can help kids like you.”

Toby took a deep breath and forced out the words he’d never said aloud before.  “Gay kids, you mean.”

His dad just nodded.

“No.”  Toby shook his head, felt the adrenaline creeping up from his feet.  They got it right when they termed it  fight or flight .  “I won’t go, because I don’t need fixing.”  There were a lot of things Toby was completely unsure about, but he knew he was gay like he knew the sun would rise again tomorrow, and he most certainly didn’t need to be helped or changed.  

“Something’s gonna have to give.”  His dad looked tired and broken, and Toby could hear the unsaid in his voice:  You can’t stay here anymore.

He grasped at tender threads of half-thoughts, trying to form a plan.  “Louisville.  Give me bus fare to Louisville, and then you won’t have to worry.  I hear . . . that there are lots of people there like me.”  Heard like whispers and rumors in halls and locker rooms, heard about Trina Matthews who got knocked up by her high school boyfriend and escaped, or Connor Freeman from a few years back, a boy more limp-wristed than Toby, if anyone could believe that.   Run off to some shelter  had been the talk, substantiated by Bobby Crenshaw after he’d seen Connor with a pack of  those kinds of kids at the mall on a weekend trip.

They were just stories as far as Toby was concerned, but stories, whispered or not, were better than nothing.

“Please, Dad.”  Toby never begged, but this was very clearly a matter of his life.  He held his breath in the waning afternoon light until his father nodded gently.  “Thank you.  Let me go pack.”

He used his old hiking pack, because it was the biggest bag he owned.  He stuffed it with a few changes of clothes, his dance shoes, his two favorite books, and his toiletries.  His dad watched silently from the doorway.  When he was all packed up, he turned and held his father’s gaze.

“I think it’s going to be better this way.”  Toby had expected to feel more, to feel something.  But the leaving was surprisingly easy.  He’d been lucky, finding B-W when he did, because being a part of that community showed him what life  could be.  Goose Creek was never going to be that for him.

He walked down to the bus station alone, bus fare and an extra hundred bucks from his dad tucked into his sock.  He waited in the dark for the bus, and when it pulled up he climbed on and never looked back.

  
** B-W Music Camp **

Will hovered in the lobby of the residential hall for another fifteen minutes after all the other eighth graders had already arrived, but Toby wasn’t there.  He even asked Andi to check the log a second time, just to be sure Toby hadn’t snuck in and signed his name someplace else.  But no, there was no scrawl with Toby’s name, and there was no check mark next to the line reading  Grey, Tobias – Goose Creek, KY.   
  
“Maybe he’s not coming this year?” Andi asked hesitantly, but Will stubbornly shook his head.    
  
“He would have emailed about that,” Will said.  “I’m sure of it.”   
  
He wasn’t sure, not at all, because he and Toby hardly ever corresponded between summers.  Neither of them were much for writing, and even less for phone conversations.  Sometimes he got a postcard from Toby over the course of the school year, with a few precious scrawled words:  Won a dance competition last week, or  Heard a song today that made me think of you.   That was pretty much it for their interaction.    
  
“Do you want to give him a call?”   
  
“I don’t even have his phone number,” Will admitted.    
  
Andi flipped through the registration binder, scanned through a few columns, then bit her lip.  “You know I’m not supposed to give you contact information,” she said.  “For confidentiality reasons, and stuff.”  He nodded.  “And,” she added, “I wouldn’t dream of mentioning that this page has Toby’s phone number from last year on line fourteen.”   
  
“Of course not,” Will said, with mounting tension in his gut.    
  
Andi stood and wandered away from the desk.  “Now I’m going to get a long drink of water, and use the bathroom.  And wash my hands.  Twice.”  Her short legs carried her down the hallway quickly, and she disappeared around the corner.   
  
Will used his finger to count down to the fourteenth line and followed it over to see Toby’s name next to two other names, both with the last name  Grey. I’ve never met his mom or dad, he thought, feeling disoriented, almost panicked.   I’ve never called him on the phone.  I hardly know anything about his life back home.   When compared to the intimacy they’d shared over the past few summers, it seemed almost ludicrous that this would be true.    
  
He traced the name  Grey with his finger again, then found the phone number and dialed it before he could talk himself out of it.    
  
“Yeah?” he heard a male voice.  It wasn’t Toby, was lower and gruffer than Toby had ever sounded.    
  
“Hello,” he said, timidly at first, then again, with more strength: “Yes, excuse me, I’m looking for Toby – Tobias Grey.”   
  
“Toby don’t live here no more,” said the voice, still gruff.    
  
Will felt his chest growing heavy, as though his heart were sinking into his stomach.  “Where is he?”   
  
“He went to Louisville, to live with them kids in the shelter.”   
  
“Shelter?” Will said faintly.  “What happened?  Is he okay?”   
  
“You one of his friends?”  The voice was suddenly kinder, and there was a wistful note under the brusque tone.    
  
“I’m – yeah,” he said.  “He’s my friend.”   
  
“If you talk to him, would you let him know – let him know we hope he’s happier,” the man said.  Then there was a click, and silence.   
  
Will’s hand began to shake, and he stilled it by putting his phone into his pocket.  He knew the phone number he’d dialed was useless to him, but it was still the only connection he had to Toby, and he wasn’t going to let it go.   How could he – how could he have assumed that things would just go on the way they had gone, each summer?   He squeezed his eyes tight against the stupidity of his actions.   Why didn’t he write, or make a trip out to visit?  Jesus, why hadn’t he called him, even once?   
  
“Andi,” he said, hearing his voice come out like a croak.  He tried again, louder.  “Andi?”   
  
The hallway was empty, and though he could hear students talking down the hall, Andi was nowhere in sight.  Suddenly, Will felt completely, abjectly, absurdly alone, and it terrified him.  “Andi!” he called again, in desperation.   
  
Then the front door opened, and under the neon orange nylon hiking pack, he saw a boy – no, a  young man  – with a familiar sideways smile, two shining eyes, and a word on his lips: “Will.”   
  
“Toby,” he cried, stumbling across the room to the door to meet him.  He nearly knocked Toby over in the process, and then he couldn’t see because his eyes were sheeting and blurred with tears, and his arms had wrapped around Toby’s strong body like an octopus, and his face was buried in Toby’s neck.    
  
“Will, darlin’,” Toby laughed, in joy and surprise, his voice angelic, “you’re gonna have to let me put down this pack before I can hug you like that.  It weighs more than I do.”   
  
“You came,” Will said, impatiently wiping tears from his face, the words spilling from his lips.  “You – I thought maybe you wouldn’t.  That you weren’t.  And I couldn’t…”  The obnoxious tears began again, and he had to put a hand over his traitorous mouth to hide his grimace.    
  
“Sentences, Will,” Toby drawled, and Will laughed, feeling the tension drain away, and everything settled back to its right place in the world.  Toby was  here, he was  here with Will, and it was okay.   
  
Only, apparently, it wasn’t.  He helped Toby take his obscenely heavy pack off and set it on the floor.  “I called you at home,” he said, and watched Toby stiffen and slow his movements.  Toby’s hair was cut short, almost a buzz cut, and he wore a tank top, showing off the newly defined muscles in his back and shoulders.  Will had to resist the urge to run a hand over them.    
  
“That ain’t my home anymore,” Toby said shortly. It was striking, the way his voice changed, from the long vowels and gentle cadence of his usual speech.  Suddenly he was speaking like a kid from the city, sharp and biting, making his mark with his words.   
  
“He said you were living in a shelter,” Will said, letting the unspoken questions show on his face.    
  
“I started there,” Toby nodded, “but I’m moving to a permanent place as soon as they can find me a foster family.”  He shrugged.  “I don’t really need more than a place to hang my hat and a bed to sleep in.  I just stay anyplace I can find.  It’s all right.”   
  
“Toby,” Will said hesitantly, but then Andi came back, this time with Brad, and there was more hugging, and Will’s questions were lost in their annual ritual of reconnection.  He couldn’t quite pin Toby down, not for the next hour.  Toby was a shadow, a diaphanous cloud, shimmering and hovering, but never really committing, never opening up.  Brad and Andi didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, they weren’t pressuring Toby to say or do more than he was ready for.    
  
Will managed to hold back his frustration until they were alone in their room, unpacking their things.  Toby’s pack was all he had, a few sets of clothes, toiletries, worn dance shoes and two dog-eared paperback books.  Will sank down on the bottom bunk beside Toby as he neatly lined up his shoes under the bed.    
  
“Toby, what  happened?” Will asked, hating himself for sounding so needy when Toby was as calm as a midnight ocean.   
  
Toby’s usually lively face was still and shut.  He did not look at Will as he said, “There were some boys.  At my school.  They… they tried to… to hurt me.  To… teach me a lesson.”  His eyes closed, briefly, and Will could almost see the motion picture of his experiences projected on the back of his eyelids.    
  
“Toby,” he sighed, and put a hand on Toby’s knee.  Toby shifted under Will’s touch, but he did not pull away.    
  
“I decided livin’ in the city would be easier,” he said.  “There’s just too much stuck thinking in Goose Creek.  They’re not bad people, just – they don’t know what’s possible, out there in the world.  They only know what they know.”  He sighed, very small, holding himself within the space of his words.  “I left that place and went to stay at the shelter last January.”   
  
“Are you happier?” Will asked, remembering the man’s words on the phone.  It had probably been Toby’s father, he realized, and that thought made him feel even more sad.   
  
“I’m – I reckon so,” Toby said, slowly.  “It’s hard to say, some days.  But I do get to dance, a lot.”  His face brightened.  “I got a job, a real paying gig, dancing chorus in the local opera company.  They usually need a kid or two.”   
  
“Toby, that’s fantastic,” Will said, and gave Toby’s knee a squeeze.  Toby considered Will’s hand, then gathered it in both of his, almost absently bringing it to his mouth to lay a kiss on his fingers.  Will felt the kiss like a brand, burning into his skin.    
  
“I really missed you this year, darlin’,” Toby said.    
  
“I missed you, too,” Will whispered, as the sound caught in his throat.  He wanted to convey some sense of the profound realization he’d had earlier, in the lobby, but all he could say was, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”   
  
Toby’s eyes flickered to his.  “I never knew you wanted to,” he said.  “Don’t feel bad about that.  We don’t have to do any of that.  I just – I need this.  Here, with you.  The summer.  This is what I want.”   
  
“Okay,” Will said, nodding, relieved, wanting to please.  “That’s fine.”  He felt himself falling back into the familiar miasma of Toby’s smile, the comfort of his presence, the sense that  Toby’s here, I’m here, and it’s all okay.   
  
So when Toby reached for him and put his lips on Will’s, he didn’t even question it.  He just went ahead and let himself be there with Toby, to touch him, to do the things his hands had wanted to do earlier, and let his mind float in the little world of  Toby and Will and nothing else.  There was nowhere else he wanted to be.

***

The summer went like that, with Will and Toby wrapped up in one another.  Neither of them had solos that year, though Toby did get a part dancing in the chorus of the summer musical.  They didn’t see much of Brad or Andi, either.  Will spent a lot of those weeks feeling happier than he’d ever felt, and not really understanding why.  Things hadn’t changed that much from previous summers.  Perhaps it was that he knew what he had, now; he knew the value of their friendship, and what it would mean for him if it was lost.  

On the last day of camp that summer, they took a walk down by the pond and fed the swans.  Toby brought some spinach from the cafeteria, disdaining to feed birds bread, and the swans seemed to really enjoy it.  “Are these the same swans as we saw last year?” Will asked, holding out a piece of spinach and hoping not to get bitten.  The swan was almost as tall as he was, when he was crouched down on the ground like this.

“They sure are,” Toby said, affectionately watching the swans glide around each other.  “Swans mate for life, you know.”

“Yeah?” Will said, glancing at Toby through shy eyes.  “I didn’t know that.”  He swallowed the next words, but Toby surprised him by saying them anyway:

“Maybe people are like that, too, sometimes,” Toby said.  He looked at Will, and his eyes were clear and calm.  “I don’t know what it’s going to be like this year, but I know I’m gonna miss you something fierce.”

“Toby,” Will said, and stopped.  He didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.  “Maybe I could come visit,” he said instead.  “Or you could come to Lima.  Brad would love to see you too.”

Toby smiled sadly at him.  “Maybe.  Depending . . . “ He waved his hand in the air.  “If they find me a family.  Otherwise, it’ll be summer again before we know it.”

Will bit his lip.  “I wish you could come live in Lima.  We could be together all the time, then.”

Toby shook his head, his gaze far away across the pond.  “Will... you wouldn’t like me much, if you saw the kind of boy I was during the rest of the year.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked, frowning.  “What do you mean, I wouldn’t  like you?”

“I’m a... well.”  Toby’s back was strong and straight, but Will could see the flush creeping up his neck.  “I have a lot of friends.  Close friends.  You know what I mean?”

“Not really,” Will admitted.

“Boys, they like me,” Toby said.  “I make them feel good.”  He shrugged.  “Men, too, sometimes.”

“Oh,” Will whispered.  He didn’t quite get it, but he didn’t like the sound of what Toby was telling him.  Toby didn’t sound very happy about it either.  He wanted Toby to be  happy.   To be happy, with  him.

“If I get a family, things can be different,” Toby was saying.  “I sure would like that.  But it’s hard for kids like me, older kids. We don’t get placed too often.”  He sighed.  “I think I’m gonna go for my GED and get a job.  That would make life easier, to have some money.  Then I could come visit you.”

Will drew closer to Toby, as though by a magnet.  He couldn’t not touch him.   “When you’re with those other... boys,” Will said, wincing at the thought.  “Are you thinking about me?”

“Always,” Toby murmured.  He took Will in his arms, and they held one another.  It was one of the first times they’d done that in the light, in the daytime, and somehow it felt different.  Will kind of liked it.  It felt more honest, somehow.

Then Toby was kissing him, and he was kissing Toby, and ohhh, it was so sweet.  Will found himself gasping into Toby’s mouth, not really knowing what he needed, but wanting Toby closer, still, as close as he could be.  

“Toby,” he said, and paused.  He traced a finger up the back of Toby’s neck, finding a long, jagged line, pink, with smooth edges.  A scar.  It was about as long as a paper clip.  

“What happened here?” he asked. 

“Oh, that’s nothin’.  Coulda been worse.”  Toby shook his head, and Will left his fingers against the scar, felt the slight raised part of it brush back and forth under his hand.

“What could have been worse?”  Something about Toby’s deflection made Will nervous.

“Oh, those boys.  The same ones as always.  They didn’t lift me high enough before they tossed me in the dumpster one day.   Caught my neck on a sharp edge.”  Toby was so matter-of-fact about it that it was a little scary.

Will didn’t think, he just put his lips right against Toby’s neck and placed a kiss on the scar, let his lips show what he couldn’t say, what he was just beginning to understand.  Toby’s eyes were astonished when he pulled away.  Then he grabbed Will and wrestled his face into a blistering kiss, one wholly different from their previous gentle kisses, one that made Will breathless and arching toward Toby for more contact.  

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Toby’s voice was sad, and a little amused.  He shook his head and clucked his tongue at Will’s baffled expression.  “Darlin,’ the things I could show you... but you’re just so young yet.”

“I’m the same age as you,” Will said, affronted.  “A little older, even.”

“That’s not what I mean.”  Toby bent down and gathered up the remains of the spinach and tossed it in the river.  The swans were long gone, scared away by their jerky movements and conversation.  “There’s a lot in this world you’ll never see.  I love that about you.  Just promise me you won’t grow up too fast.”  

Will watched Toby walk back to the residential hall with an aching sense of loss.  There were things about Toby that he would never understand, and the distance between them sometimes seemed so great that Will couldn’t reach him, no matter how close their bodies got.  He wished he could give Toby something that would keep him close.  But the summer was over now, and all Will could offer was his hand.  He ran and caught up to Toby and clasped his fingers, and the smile Toby gave him warmed him from the inside out.  They walked back together that way. 

“Is there a phone number where I can reach you?” Will asked.  He was not going to make the same mistake twice.  “I can give you my address and phone number.  Seriously, I’d love to see you.  You’d be welcome any time.”

Toby took it, and gave Will the phone number for the shelter where he’d been staying.  But that year was no different from any other, and Will and Toby spent it apart, living their own lives.  Sometimes Will would think about Toby, but he didn’t call him, and Toby never wrote that year.  Will supposed his life was complicated enough without thinking about him.  

  


  


  


** Lima, OH **

  


  
It wasn’t until that winter, when Toby was the furthest thing from Will’s mind, that Will and Brad  attended a performance of the Nutcracker.  It was a regional touring company, one that made stops in most of the cities in Tennessee and Kentucky and southern Ohio.  Will didn’t think much of it until they were sitting in the audience, browsing the playbill while they waited for the curtain to go up, and Brad made a strangled noise.  

Will looked up. “What is it?”

“You’re never going to believe this,” Brad said, and pointed at the list of performers.  Right there, in black and white, under a list of the party children in the first act was the name: TOBIAS GREY.

“Toby.”  Will gasped, and slumped back in his seat, stunned.

They spotted Toby right away.  He was made up to look like a kid, and he was doing a bang-up job of acting the part, too, joining in with the other boys to chase the girls and tease them with toy horses and guns.  There was a Victorian-era dance, as well, where Toby partnered a girl about his height with red hair in ringlets.  Will had seen Toby perform in scenes and group numbers at camp, but he’d never seen Toby do ballet before.  There was something different about Toby on  this  stage, something more elegant and refined.  It gave Will a little thrill, and a lot of pride, knowing that  his Toby was talented enough to do something like this.

As soon as the show was over, Brad got up.  “Where are you going?” Will asked, feeling panicked.  

“I’m going to see him, of course!” Brad pushed impatiently through the crowd to the door marked Green Room.  “You’re not going to miss this opportunity, are you?”

“I’ve got -- I have to use the bathroom,” Will said, and ran the opposite direction.  He hid out in one of the stalls as long as he reasonably could, until Brad finally came looking for him. 

“You’re an idiot,” Brad said testily.  “Toby says hi.  He gave me a hug and told me to give you one, but you don’t deserve it.  And he said to give you this.”  It was a green fleece pullover, with the name of the touring company emblazoned on it in yellow stitching on the breast.  Will put it on immediately.  It was a little big, but it felt warm, and when Will buried his nose in the collar, he could smell Toby. 

“Oh,” he said unhappily.  “You’re right.  I’m an idiot.”

“Like I said,” Brad huffed, but he gave Will the hug after all. 


	4. 16 years - BW Music Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks loads to songirl77 for finding pictures of Will and Toby in high school. No, really.  
> Will: http://snipurl.com/xejcb  
> Toby: http://snipurl.com/x43pc  
> And, I realize I haven't shared pictures of Brad, Andi and Laurie yet... Andi is played by the smokin' hot Janeane Garofalo, and Laurie is played by Agyness Deyn. Yes, Brad's (going to be) a lucky guy. http://snipurl.com/xeinp  
> Enjoy our Toby/Will angstfest, with comic relief provided by Andi! -amy

"Toby!" Will scrambled up from the bench where he was impatiently waiting. He grinned expectantly at his roommate. "Well?"

Toby didn't look at him directly. "Well, what?" he said, his dulcet voice quiet and calm.

"How did the audition go?" Will exploded, his big hands expressive. Somehow his hands had grown much faster than most of the rest of him this past year. He was still shorter than Toby, who'd grown three inches during sophomore year, but his hands were enormous. Will was usually self-conscious about them, but right now, he was too excited to care.

Toby's mouth twitched. "Fine," he said, a single sound, stretched out over several tones. Will rolled his eyes and groaned, and Toby giggled, high and bright. Will knew Toby hated that giggle, but it always made him smile.

"Okay, okay," Toby said, grabbing Will's arm. "I got the part."

"I knew it!" Will shouted, shooting a fist in the air, narrowly missing a girl walking by. "Sorry," he tossed at her, his enthusiasm not dimmed one iota. "Toby, that's awesome!" He wrapped him in a huge hug, squeezing tight, and Toby squeaked under the compression.

"I'm going to be in  _Cats,"_  Toby marveled. "God. Pinch me."

"You'll be a fantastic Mungojerrie," Will said, taking Toby's arm and leading him toward the cafeteria. "Who's playing Rumpleteazer?"

"Some new girl named Laurie," said Toby. "She's right spectacular, though not much in the voice department. Like me. We were clearly cast for our dancing."

"Toby, you have a great voice," Will said, shaking his head.

"Uh-huh," Toby drawled, his Kentucky accent showing more plainly, as it often did when he was excited. "Says the winner of the Cantata solo competition."

"It's not like being in  _Cats,_  man." Will nudged Toby in the ribs, starting his giggles up again. "I'm hardly going to see you at all this summer, am I?"

Toby pursed his lips, moving into place at the end of the cafeteria line. "Well, I'll be pretty busy when dress rehearsals start, but that's not for another month. We'll be working on individual scenes at the beginning. Me and Laurie, we have that one number, but the rest is mostly chorus. I should have plenty of time to hang out until then."

He glanced at Will with that slow smile, and Will felt tension building in his stomach.  _Hang out._  That could mean any number of things. For example, it could mean  _talk about girls,_  which mostly consisted of Toby listening to Will complaining about his most recent failed attempt to get into the girl-of-the-month's pants. This summer it was Terri Del Monico, the catty, gorgeous head cheerleader. She was way too popular for Will, but they had great potential for being this year's It Couple.

Or  _hang out_  could mean  _make out,_  which they'd done occasionally last summer, and the summer before that. It had been something that'd just happened, almost automatically, at night in their dorm room. They hadn't ever talked about it, and neither one seemed anxious to bring it up in the light of day.

"You should audition, too," Toby was saying, shuffling forward in line. He sighed happily. "We could be in it together. Gracious light, wouldn't that be something."

"Toby, you know I can't dance my way out of a wet paper bag," Will protested.

"You're so full of it," Toby demurred. "You're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."

Will shook his head, crossing his arms across his skinny chest. "I feel like an idiot, when I try to do… what you do." He gestured with one huge hand, then tucked it back into the cradle of his arms. "It's embarrassing."

"Will," Toby said, and laid one hand on Will's arm, leaning closer. "I'll tell you a secret."

"Okay," Will replied, not sure where this was going, but when Toby spoke to him like that, he was pretty much willing to do anything he said.  _Sure, Toby, I'll jump off that building. No problem._

Toby's mouth was close to Will's ear. He could feel Toby's warm breath on his neck. "Everyone's embarrassed when they dance on stage," Toby whispered. Will's temperature climbed five degrees, while at the same time he shivered.

"You, too?" Will said, too chicken to make eye contact with Toby when they were this close. He stared at his mouth, instead, which turned out to not be much better, because Toby bit his lip and Will found himself leaning in to investigate.

"Me, too," Toby promised. "You just have to fake it."

"Fake it till you make it?" Will said, and immediately regretted it. He blushed crimson, but Toby just giggled.

"You're so damn funny, Will." His expression was amused, and so full of affection that Will was even more embarrassed. He glanced around furtively, sure that, any second, somebody was going to start throwing accusations of  _faggot_.

But the only people who were paying any attention to them were Andi and Brad, and of course, they didn't count. "Toby," Andi said, pouncing on him. "How'd it go? Did you get it?"

"I got it," Toby confirmed, and Andi squealed and did a crazy dance of joy, making Will laugh.

"Of course he did," Brad scoffed. "He's way better than that other guy he was up against. Your scene with Rumpleteazer is epic, Toby - you're going to kick that double windmill's ass." He sighed dramatically. "And fine, don't even  _bother_ to ask if I'm playing piano in the pit."

Toby twined his arm through Brad's, giving him a squeeze. "We all know you've got that covered," Andi said, dismissively. "Did you even need to audition?"

"No," Brad said, and shrugged, grinning. "I think the director just assumed, too. I was considering trying out for a part, just to scare her."

"Uh-huh," Toby said, with a raised eyebrow. "You, on the stage? Brad. Seriously."

"What?" Brad protested. "I could do it. I've got a good voice."

"That's not the question," Andi said, poking him. "It's the complete absence of sound  _from_  your voice once you get on stage that we're questioning. So unless you're doing mime, I think you'll be sticking with the pit."

Brad had also grown a few inches since last year, but Andi remained the height she'd been since fourth grade, just a hair taller than four foot eleven. It was a good thing she preferred the alto sax over the tenor or baritone, Will thought, as Brad patted her indulgently on the head, making her splutter.

"You just haven't seen me in action," said Brad confidently. "I'm getting on that stage this year. You watch me."

"It's not the watchin' I'll be doing," said Toby, grinning. "It's the listenin', to the crickets chirping when you open your mouth and nothin' comes out."

"I'm sure you can do it," Will said, trying to be encouraging, but he realized Brad wasn't listening to him. Brad was staring at the girl who'd just joined the back of the line. She was pixie-slim, with short blonde hair and a wicked smile.

"Who's  _that?"_  Brad said, faintly.

"That's Laurie," Toby said with satisfaction. "She's playing Rumpleteazer. Cute, huh?"

"Yeah," said Brad, and it came out long and slow, like something out of a porn movie. Andi stared after him with a disgruntled expression.

"What, does she weigh, like, eight pounds?" she huffed. "Jeez. Somebody needs to get her a sandwich."

"You've got to admit, she's pretty gorgeous," Will said.

"Wait 'til you hear her voice," Toby added. "Her mom's from New Zealand. I'm such a sucker for accents. I think I could listen to her talk all day." He caught Laurie's eye and gave her a little wave, and she waved back, her smile going from brilliant to incandescent. Brad made a little whimper in the back of his throat.

Will felt suddenly uncomfortable, watching Toby's eyes on the pretty new girl, but seeing the tension between Andi and Brad, he decided not to stir the pot any further. "Well, Toby, you'll have to let us know when dress rehearsals begin, so we can come sit in the audience and laugh at you," he said.

"You bet, Will," Toby said sweetly, giving him a sharp kick in the shin. "You just want to see me in tights."

"You wish," Will snickered. But that startling image stuck with him all afternoon, popping up in his brain at the most inopportune moments. He was sight reading in Cantata singers, and he thought,  _Toby in tights,_ and he was suddenly lightheaded. He was in the men's room at the urinal, and  _Toby in tights_  flashed through his imagination, and he had to lean forward to cover his half-hard cock.

 _Toby in tights_  followed him back to his dorm room, where he finally had to do something about it, in the privacy of his bathroom, with the door securely locked and Toby reading on his bed on the other side of it.  _Toby,_  Will thought, desperately embarrassed but definitely turned on, maybe more than he'd ever been in his life.  _Toby, oh, fuck, Toby._

"You okay in there, Will?" Toby asked absently. "I'm heading off to dinner. You coming?"

At that moment, that was precisely what Will was doing, but he managed to choke out the words, "You go on without me," in a reasonably calm manner.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Toby said, while a beet-red Will lay, panting, against the cool wall in the bathroom, recovering from the most confusing, hottest fantasy of his life.

Will managed to clean himself up, calm his blush and compose his face by the time he found Toby waiting in the lobby downstairs. "So, wow, Toby," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "That Laurie girl – she's really hot. You're going to have a great time working with her."

"Sure thing," Toby said, giving Will a strange look. "She's a fabulous dancer."

"You going to ask her out?" he asked, as they moved into the cafeteria. "Because I was kind of thinking I might."

"Will," Toby said. He stopped Will and pulled him out of the path of traffic. "Will, why are you asking me that?"

Will shrugged. "What? She's hot, you guys would be great together."

"Will," Toby said again, looking at him intently. "I'm gay."

Will looked at Toby, uncomprehending, for a long moment. "You –" he said.

Toby's eyebrow went up, and he cocked his head. "Will," he said a third time. "You knew this already."

"No, I didn't," Will said, trying to grasp what was going on here. "I had – I had no idea."

Toby's stare became laser-like in its intensity. " _Will,_ " he said for a fourth time. "You and me – last summer? Darlin', you of all people, you  _know_ I'm gay. Remember?"

"Well,  _I'm_  not," Will retorted.

Toby stepped back, regarding Will, his expression becoming guarded. "You're not what?"

"I'm not gay," Will said. The actions of the past half hour, the compelling images in his head, they were blurred, obscured by the certainty of this one thought:  _I'm not gay._

"Okay," Toby said at last, looking away. "No problem. Come on, let's go get some dinner. It's lasagna tonight."

* * *

Will was singing along to his Discman when Toby got back from lunch, running between a morning of rehearsals and an optional afternoon dance class. He called out to Will so he didn't scare him, and Will turned and smiled.

"Hey, how was your morning?"

Toby dropped his dance bag and started rooting around in his dresser for a clean pair of jazz pants and a dry tank top. "Tiring. Yours?"

"Pretty good. We're working on this bitch of a piece in Cantata Singers."

Toby preferred the silence of dancing; he'd leave the singing to Will whenever possible. "What're you up to now?"

Will shook his head. "Nothing. Why?"

Toby grinned wickedly and tossed his extra jazz shoes up onto Will's bunk. "You're coming to dance class with me."

"Oh. Hell, no. I'm not-"

"You're a fine dancer, Will." Toby listened to Will's protests, and thought back to the jazz class they'd shared their first summer. Back then, Will hadn't known to be self-conscious, and he'd moved with a little boy's energy. He hadn't been the best in the class, but he also hadn't had much training. Toby knew he hadn't taken more than the occasional class, or performed beyond the choreography in his Glee Club, but it would be enough to be able to follow along in the mixed-level class. "No arguing, darlin'. I want to see what you can do."

Toby knew Will was nervous, so he manuevered them to the back of the class rather than staking claim to one of the front spots that the older, stronger dancers usually fought over. He talked Will through some stretches while they waited for the teacher, and when the young man strode into the room and turned on the music, Toby leaned over and whispered into Will's ear. "Relax. And have fun. You'll be fine."

"I don't know," Will said over the brain-scrambling thump of hip-hop.

Toby lost himself in the movement of his body, the pulsing of the music. It still amazed him, the way dancing made him feel, like he was free and open and the most special person in the world. He kept a cautious, partial eye on Will to make sure he was keeping up okay during the floor work, but by the time they were moving into small groups for combinations Toby was overcome with the desire to shine. He moved himself into his usual group, with Laurie and two other kids from Cats; they were, Toby knew, the best dancers in class, and none of them were ashamed to show it. He threw himself into the leaps and turns, making sure to spot so he didn't get dizzy, and he emerged at the other side of the studio feeling breathless and light.

He caught Will's eye and winked in encouragement; Will looked more and more panicked the closer his foursome moved to the front of the line. When it was finally Will's turn, Toby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. And then he stopped breathing all together.

Because Will was a  _good_  dancer, better than Toby had expected.

His technique was nonexistent, but his instincts and rhythm were excellent. But it was more than that. Will was a born performer. What he lacked in technique he made up for with ball-busting self confidence and a kind of unaware sexuality that left Toby leaning against the barre, lightheaded.

 _I'm in a fuck-ton of trouble._

He threw his head back and sighed, and let Laurie pat him gently on his arm. "You've been gobsmacked, haven't you?"

Toby just groaned and nodded. "Yeah. Remind me not to bring him to class anymore. I'd never be able to focus."

Laurie just laughed, and nudged him into position to run the combination on the left. "I don't think you're focused now, baby. Just don't fall over yourself."

Toby took his position, stuck his tongue out at Laurie's brat-like teasing, and threw himself into the air.

* * *

"That was amazing!" Will crowed, stumbling on their way out of the studio. "God... my muscles feel like Jell-o." He shook out his limbs, trying to recover his equilibrium, and slipped his green fleece jacket on over his chilly arms.

"You were good, Will," Laurie said, glancing meaningfully at Toby. "You held your own, and I know you'd never seen those routines before."

"Well, no! I've never done  _anything_  like that before. But - god. It felt incredible. What a rush."

Toby seemed to be distracted by something, but Will caught his eye. "I didn't embarrass you too badly, did I?" he asked, only half-kidding.

"No, Will," Toby said, his smile faint. "You didn't."

Will watched Toby and Laurie as they went ahead to get ready for their next studio class, and shook his head with incredulity. He had a new appreciation for the athleticism they both had to exhibit in order to get through even one class, and they still had at least one more to go that afternoon.

But it was more than that that was slowing Will's steps and making him stumble. He'd seen Toby in the studio off and on all his life. But Toby's technique and skill had increased exponentially in the past few years. He was done with school, his GED long since completed, and when he wasn't working part time, he'd been able to spend all his time working out, or taking class. And it showed, in every turn, every leap of his muscular body. It had affected Will in... unexpected ways.

He just hoped Toby hadn't been able to tell.

* * *

Andi pulled Brad's hoodie over her head and shivered in the gloomy fluorescent light of the lobby of the residential hall. She nearly tripped on Toby's outstretched legs, sticking into the hallway, from his vantage point wedged behind a couch against the wall. "Toby, what are you doing awake at 1:30 in the morning?" she said, irritated to have to make conversation.

"I dare say the same as you," Toby said, pulling his earbuds out and grinning, lopsided, at her. "I'm a night owl. When everybody else is just about ready to go to sleep, I'm waking up." He shrugged. "And I don't want to be a bother to Will, so – here I am."

"Great," Andi sighed, flopping into a couch. "Now I have to deal with your issues along with my own."

"What's the problem, darlin'?" Toby asked, pulling his knees up to his chin. This made him look eight years old again. His baby face was just beginning to sprout a bristle of uneven hairs across his jaw.

"You want me to make a list?" she snapped. Andi knew she  _still_  looked eight, even when she was standing up. She hadn't grown an inch since fourth grade, at least not  _up,_  though now that she was in tenth grade there were plenty of ways she was growing  _out._

"I'm listening," Toby said, resting his head on his hands. He gazed at her with sweet admiration.

"Brad says -" she began, and closed her eyes.  _Brad._  "There's almost too much there to talk about."

"He's always been pretty special to all of us," Toby said, rocking his head on the side, "but I could tell he's especially important to you."

"He's a doofus," she complained, "and he's got no sense, and he completely ignores me half the time." She buried her face in her arms. "And I'm totally fucking in love with him."

"Boys suck," Toby nodded sympathetically. "I can relate. Being a boy, and all."

"And being in love with a boy, too," Andi said pointedly, nudging him with her knee.

Toby let his gaze rove over the floor. "Yeah, well…" He took a measured breath. "It would be… easier… if that boy would acknowledge some basic facts about reality. But he ain't."

Andi raised an eyebrow. "Basic facts such as?"

"Such as, the stuff we've been doing in our dorm room since eighth grade is usually a good indication that somebody ain't straight. But he don't see it that way. I tried to tell him I was gay, and he had a hissy fit with a tail on it. Said that didn't mean anything about him, that  _he_  wasn't gay." He sighed. "And I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off him. You should have seen him in the studio the other day. I brought him to dance class, and... well. It's… trying."

"Well,  _Brad's_  definitely straight," Andi said sourly. "Not that that's helping  _me_  any. He's head-over-dick in lust with Laurie. I don't think she's even given him the time of day, but that's not stopping him from mooning over her at lunch or writing little love songs about her in composition class."

Toby considered Andi with a studiously solemn expression. Just about the only one who could out-calm Toby was Brad, and they did it in completely different ways. Either way, it was intolerably annoying. "What do you think he sees in her?"

"Jesus, isn't it obvious?" she groaned. "She's absolutely freaking  _gorgeous._  She'd got those incredible big eyes that stare right into you, those perfect pouty lips, that flawless skin…" Andi stared angrily at the wall and kicked the couch with her little sneakers. "Plus on top of that, she's really freaking  _nice._  I think I need to complain to the powers that be for letting her be both gorgeous  _and_  nice. That's completely unfair."

"Mmmm," said Toby, still watching her.

Andi glared at him. "Toby, are you  _laughing_  at me?"

"Maybe," he said.

"Are you going to share the joke with me?" she said sweetly. "Because you're starting to piss me off."

He giggled. "What if I told you… that you're missing a piece of the puzzle? A big piece?"

"Spit it out,  _Tobias,"_  she said through gritted teeth.

"Andi," he said, "Laurie's been hanging around you and Brad a lot, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"Brad doesn't seem to have gotten anywhere with her, has he?"

"No – and no wonder; she's way out of his league, Toby!"

He continued, patient as ever. "But she's still hanging around, right? Spending time with the two of you… does that suggest anything to you?"

Andi rolled her eyes. "That Brad's a big stupid loser?"

"Maybe… something about Laurie?"

She paused, furrowing her brow. "Um… that she's bored and has nothing better to do but tease a big stupid loser?"

" _Andi…"_  Toby shook his head and sighed. "Try this. Why am  _I_  always hanging around with Will?"

"Because you're in love with –" Andi stopped and blinked, an idea filtering into her mind. She shook her head to clear it. "But  _she's_  not –"

"Mmmmm," Toby said, raising an eyebrow.

"She's not," Andi insisted. "I'm  _sure_  she's…" Her brows lowered, and she rocked back on her heels. She was completely dumbfounded. "You think she likes me," she said flatly.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it's beyond that, darlin'," said Toby. "Not to scare you or anything."

Andi felt her face get white-hot, and she bent her head down into her lap to hide the sudden, crazy smile that had bloomed on her lips. " _Fuck,_  Toby."

"You can get glad the way you got mad," Toby went on gaily, "or else you're gon' die unhappy."

Andi's heart was suddenly beating erratically, and she put her hand over her chest to still the pounding. "You think I should… what? Talk to her?" She swallowed. "Alone?"

"Always a good start," he said, nodding. "Maybe try inviting her to lunch?"

"Uh," she said, licking her lips. He head was spinning. "Toby, what the fuck am I going to tell Brad?"

"Start by talking with Laurie," he suggested. "You girls can figure it out together."

* * *

"I'm gonna puke," Andi muttered to herself. "I'm gonna puke  _now,_  and I'm gonna puke  _hard."_

"Not really breakfast conversation, is it," Toby said, walking behind her on his way to get a cup of coffee.

"It's lunch, genius," she retorted. "This is all your fault, you know."

" _My_  fault?" Toby's eyes widened, and he gestured grandly with the sugar dispenser. "It's love, darlin'. Fate. Kismet."

"I have none of those things," Andi groaned, holding her stomach. "Just a large puddle of puke under my chair."

"Disgusting," Toby declared. He put his arms around her from behind and squeezed, but she scowled until he let her go. "Just be yourself. Remember, she's the one who has a hankering for  _you."_

Andi whispered furiously, "Yeah, but she's a  _girl."_  She shook her head. "I have fuck-all idea what to do with a girl."

"I figure it ain't all that different," Toby said, amused. "We all got the same ten fingers and one tongue. Everything else is gravy."

"Please," she begged, "don't mention gravy."

Toby grinned bigger. "And I didn't mention how lovely you look, either. You dressed up for her, didn't you?"

"Oh, as though you  _never_ wear those muscle shirts for Will," she snapped. "Jesus H. Christ."

"Here they come," he nodded, murmuring, and Andi didn't look as the willowy blonde girl walked into the cafeteria, talking animatedly to a rapt Will.

"You really want me to puke  _on_  her?" Andi said tightly, smoothing the fitted tank top and skirt she was wearing.

"Go get your lunch and sit the hell down," he replied, "before you try to say something clever."

Andi couldn't believe she'd never paid attention to the sound of Laurie's voice before, how fucking  _beautiful_  her voice was, the way she made her a's, colored with the remnant of some time spent in New Zealand, and how absolutely  _stupid_  her own Midwest accent was by comparison. She spent the next five minutes loading her tray with foods she could eat without spilling them all over herself and berating her parents for having the tenacity to bear and raise her in Michigan.

Finally, she took her overloaded tray ( _and now she was going to look like a total cow, eating all this fucking food_ ) and sat at a table for two by the window, and pulled out her book to read while she waited.

It didn't take long. Will slid into the table next to hers, smiling and laughing with Laurie. "Well, my mum's a Kiwi, so I guess I get to make fun of her," she was saying to Will, in her ( _fucking adorable)_  accent. "Hi, Andi."

"Shouldn't you say g'day?" Andi said acerbically.

"If you like," Laurie said, raising her dark eyebrows. Something about wondering if she was a natural blonde and matching tops and tails went through Andi's brain too quickly for her to trace it, even too quickly for her to be embarrassed by it. She was sure she'd be in for more embarrassing thoughts later.

"Toby had a question to ask me, so I'm going to take off," Will said. "I'll see you for dinner."

"Bye, Will," Laurie said, waving. She watched him go, then turned her amused eyes on Andi. "So… how do you suppose New Zealanders practice safe sex?"

Andi set down her book and considered this. "I'm guessing it has something to do with how dangerous sheep are when they're cornered."

Laurie gave a little half-shrug. "They mark a cross on the ones that kick."

Andi twisted her mouth and willed herself  _not_  to laugh. "That was terrible."

"But unfortunately true," she nodded soberly. "Sheep are an unavoidable part of my culture. It's too bad I hate wool so much. What are you reading?"

Andi's brain had to do a little two-step in order to keep up with Laurie's rapidly changing subjects, but she kind of liked it. She knew she was a smart cookie, and wasn't often people, boys or girls, gave her a run for her money. Meanwhile, Laurie was waiting for an answer.

"Um, it's an old Star Trek novel," Andi said, holding up her tattered copy of  _Uhura's Song_. "Comfort reading."

"I love Janet Kagan," Laurie said, with a stunning smile. "Have you read any of her other books?"

Andi just stared at Laurie, speechless. And more than a little turned on by the idea of this beautiful creature reading Star Trek novels. "No," she said at last.

"They're not as good as that one," Laurie said, taking a spoonful of yogurt. "Something about the prehensile tails."

Her eyes bore down on Andi and made her watch while she put the spoon between her lips. Andi opened her mouth and made a sound that she was pretty sure had never come out of her before, something like a whimper and something like the word  _yes._

Laurie's sculpted eyebrow went up, and she waited for Andi to say something else before she went on, but the moments ticked by and Andi was still mute. It occurred to her that she might not have ever been silent this long before in her life, since she started talking at 14 months.

"Are you done with your lunch?" Laurie asked, nodding at Andi's still-full tray.

"Yeah," said Andi, somewhat strangled but clear, "I think I am."

"Do you..." Laurie cleared her throat. Then she licked her lips - quickly, but that was definitely a tongue Andi saw flicker out of her mouth, and it made her thighs clench and her head swim. Laurie tried again, low and rushed: "Do you want to come back to my room?"

"God, I thought you'd never ask," Andi gabbled, scrambling out of her seat, tripping over her own tiny feet in an effort to move more quickly.

* * *

"Have you seen Andi?" Will said to Toby, from beside the door. Toby looked up from where he was pretending to read his favorite novel, but he hadn't actually taken in one word in over fifteen minutes. He sighed.

"Probably with Laurie," he said, putting on a smile. "She didn't come out of there yesterday except to have lunch, and then it was a swoop-and-gather kind of mission for sandwiches and fruit, then right back into their lair. I bet their roommates are in a right pickle."

"They might as well just switch rooms and be done with it," Will said, grinning back. He hesitated, then closed the door behind him. "Toby," he said.

"Will -" Toby held up his hand and set his book down. "I've got something I need to talk about, and I don't think you're gonna like it much."

"I wanted to talk about something, too," Will said. He sat beside Toby, on the far end of his bed.  _Their_  bed, if he was to be honest about it; they hadn't slept apart since Will had had the stomach flu at 9th grade camp. But there was a distance between them, and Toby could feel it. "Do you want to go first?" he offered.

Toby couldn't help but smile at Will's gallant gesture, and felt a twinge inside his chest.  _This was going to be harder than he'd thought._  "I was thinking on what you said the other day. About you, not being gay."

"Yeah," Will said, glancing at the floor. "About that."

"Just - let me finish, then you can say your piece, okay?" Toby looked at Will's knee. It was close enough to touch, but Toby didn't reach for him. He wouldn't make this any worse than it already was. "All these years, these summers at B-W... it's been a really special time for me. Being with you, and Andi and Brad; you're like my family. I'm not sure how it's been for you, but I don't think I could have made it through a lot of the crap in my life if I hadn't known you'd be here in the summer."

He could see Will struggling not to cry. His emotions were always so close to the surface. Toby loved that about him.  _There ain't much I don't love about that boy,_  he thought ruefully, and went on. "Being your roommate, that's special for me in a way I can't rightly describe. But knowing myself better, now, and hearing you say that about yourself... I think maybe I've been takin' advantage of you. I don't think it's right that we're roommates anymore."

Will's lips parted and his eyes shrouded with pain. He looked like Toby had slapped him across the face. "Toby," he blurted. "No... no! I can't... I don't want anybody else as a roommate. I want  _you_." He swallowed, painfully. "That's the thing I needed to tell you."

"What is it, darlin'?" Toby said softly. Now he did reach out and touch Will's knee. Seeing him hurting was too much for Toby to bear without touching him.

"I've been having... dreams. About you. Fantasies... god, I can't believe I'm telling you this." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You're my best friend in the world, besides Brad, and I... Toby, at home, I'm thinking about girls all the time, I can't get them out of my head. But every summer, I just want... I just..." He chewed his lip and glanced up at Toby uncertainly. "I just want to be with you," he said finally.

"Will... do you remember what we did last summer?" Toby asked. He probed Will's face for understanding, and got it, mixed with shame and guilt. He sighed. "You and me... ain't nothing we did was wrong, you got that, Will?  _Nothing._  And I loved every bit of it."

"Me, too," Will said, low and agonized. "Every summer. I love being here at B-W, the music and the dance and the classes, but... it just wouldn't be the same without you."

He slid across the bed toward Toby, his face an open book. Toby relished every expression, every look of love and trust that Will had ever given him, but now he felt torn.  _Will's getting ripped up inside because of this._ "Will, I don't want this to hurt you," he said, but Will stopped him with a hand on his lips.

"I'm not hurting when I'm with you," he said. "Only when there's something in the way. I can't - I don't want to put a name on it. Can't we just - be together, the way we've been?"

"Is that what you want, Will?" Toby said, gathering Will's hand into his. Will nodded, still anxious. "All right. We can do that."

Will relaxed, and the relief in his expression was evident. "Thank you."

"And if anything... happens that you don't want, you'll tell me, right?" Again, he nodded, a faint smile on his face. "What is it?" Toby asked.

"I can't imagine you doing anything I didn't want," Will admitted, and the look of desire he shot at Toby took away his breath for a moment. He put his arms around Will and held him close, just so he wouldn't have to face the temptation he felt to do all  _kinds_  of things to him.

"Please don't leave," Will whispered into his ear. "Don't leave me. I need you."

What could Toby say to that? He just buried his face deeper into Will's neck and said, "I won't."


	5. 19 years - Ohio State University, Columbus, OH

** 1997 - 19 years - Ohio State University, Columbus, OH **

"The best part of a road trip," said Andi, popping her head around the headrest, "are the snacks. We get to eat crap in the car and nobody minds. Because it's a road trip." In support of this statement, she handed Will a container of Pringles and a bag of Nutter Butters, grabbing a handful of the latter.

"I don't know," said Laurie, grabbing Andi around the waist and pulling her back down onto the back bench seat of Will's old station wagon. "I kind of think the best thing about road trips is snuggling in the back, while the suckers get to drive."

Will grinned at Toby, the driver in question. "Pringle, Mr. Sucker?" he offered, opening the can.

"I'll pass," he said, giggling. "You know, Andi, darlin', those don't  _really_  have any fewer calories than they do when you're not in the car."

"They do if you take the lid off counter-clockwise," Andi objected, between snogs in the back seat.

"You'd think after two years they'd have slowed down, at least," Toby marveled at Will, shaking his head. "I seriously have no idea what kind of libido women are supposed to have in college, but these two surpass even the expectations of teenage boys."

Will laughed, but it felt a little forced. He'd been glad to see Andi and Laurie continuing their life together, even agreeing to attend Baldwin-Wallace College with Will and Toby following their eight years of music camp. Everyone assumed they'd get their domestic partnership and shack up together after they graduated. They were definitely the cutest lesbian couple Will had ever met.

He and Toby, on the other hand, had also continued their friendship after music camp, but since their explosive argument about the status of their relationship at the end of senior year, they hadn't been more than friends. It was... distressing, Will thought, how they'd spent so many summers sleeping in the same bed, even if most of that time had been chaste - and now that part of their interaction was absent. Not that he was worried about it, exactly. He just thought about it sometimes. Well, a lot.

Will's girlfriend Terri went to Ohio State, along with their good friend Brad, and they were on one of many road trips to visit them in Columbus. Terri was a cheerleader and Brad played clarinet in the marching band, so they'd often made the drive down that fall for football Saturdays. None of them cared much for football, but it was a good excuse for social drinking. Plus, Terri had the worst beer goggles of any girl Will had ever met, so he wanted to be there to make sure she didn't end up making out with some random guy after the game. He liked Terri - no, he loved her. He was lucky to have a girl like her.

And if his dreams were mostly about Toby... well, that was just a natural part of growing up, his subliminal needs coming out, or something. It was nothing to be concerned about.

"Did you hear from Brad yet?" Andi asked, bouncing on her seat. Will had the only cell phone; Toby refused to carry one, claiming they were unhealthful, and Andi and Laurie couldn't afford one.

Will listened to his voice mail and dutifully recited back Brad's message: "Hi, Will, thanks for making the trek down yet again. We'll try not to lose, or at least I'll try not to trip on the field this halftime. I can't wait to see everyone. Don't forget to pick up subs for eating after the game. Give the girls a kiss from me."

Laurie and Andi squealed and giggled together, and Toby rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shall we stop at Jersey Giant for the subs now, or do you want to drop off our stuff first?"

"Andi and I want to pick up some things at the drugstore before we head over to see Brad," Laurie said. "Is Terri meeting us after the game, or do you want to see her first?"

"She said we should drop off our bags and meet her at the stadium," he said. That wasn't exactly what she had said, to be truthful. Really, she'd complained yet again about Toby being there, and wondered aloud in a very annoyed voice when he was going to start bringing a date to their excursions instead of being their fifth wheel. Explaining yet again that Toby was gay, and that he hadn't met the right guy, didn't seem to cut it for Terri. She couldn't understand why Toby's life still revolved around his best friend, instead of around a girlfriend - or a boyfriend, in his case.

The one time that Toby  _had_  tried to bring a boyfriend to their events, Will had been so uncomfortable that he'd had to beg off on the rest of the evening. He'd said he had a headache, which wasn't so far from the truth. Will's jaw had ached from all the clenching he'd been doing, watching Toby with his... his  _stupid boytoy._ He wasn't even good-looking, and he hung all over Toby like he  _belonged_  to him, or something.

After that, Toby usually came alone. One time he brought a friend from the theater department and Terri had accused him of "gaying up their room." Will had almost had an argument with Terri over that.

But luckily, Brad had his own room, and Toby was usually able to stay with him there, so Will could have his time with Terri before they had to head back to B-W on Sunday. Toby was happy to visit and hang out with Brad and Andi and Laurie. Will suspected they had more fun than he did, actually, but he couldn't really complain about spending time with his beautiful girlfriend, could he?

"Earth to Will," Toby joked. "Big sandwiches... biiiiig sandwiches."

They turned into Jersey Giant and Andi and Laurie ran in to pick up their order. "Don't forget the -" The door slammed. "They're gonna forget," Toby sighed.

"We'll pick cookies up later," Will consoled him. "We have tons of cookies right here."

"Not the right kind," Toby shook his head mournfully. "They don't have the itty-bitty little chocolate chips, now, do they?"

Will watched Laurie and Andi giggling over something on the counter in the sandwich restaurant. "Something is going on with them," he said suspiciously. "What do you think they're plotting?"

"Who knows," said Toby, shrugging. "I'll never fathom the mysteries of women."

"Be glad you don't have to date them," Will said, sighing.

"Girl trouble again?" Toby said, glancing at Will sadly. "Come on; tell old auntie Toby all about it."

"I don't really feel comfortable telling you about my girl trouble," Will said, shifting in his seat.

"Why?" Toby's face was amused. "Because we used to make out in my bed at B-W? Or because you know I don't care much for your choice in girls?"

"Do you have to bring that up?" Will protested, his face heating. He glanced out the window, but Laurie and Andi were still busy collecting packages of food. "It's been a long time since we did... that stuff. It's time I outgrew it."

"Is that how it felt to you, Will?" Toby said, and he wasn't teasing now. His voice was low and intense and it sent shivers down Will's spine. He seldom heard Toby sound like this. "Did it feel like a  _game?_ Something for  _boys_  to play? Because I always thought it was one of the best parts of my life, Will, and it made me feel like a  _man._  Your hands on me... your mouth..."

"Stop," Will begged. "I can't - please, don't - "

Toby sighed, short and sharp. "You're the biggest tease in the universe, Will, and you drive me crazy." He shook his head. "Damn you, and I love you anyway."

Will's eyes stung with tears, and he clenched down on the bitter words that lept to his lips:  _It's not love you feel for me, Toby._  But he knew he could never say that. Anyway, he didn't need to be mean about it. It wasn't as though Toby was leading him on. Will was perfectly capable of leading himself to Toby, all on his own. He ignored his persistent erection and got out of the car to open the door for Andi and Laurie, telling himself he was just hungry.

"Did you get the stuff at the drugstore you wanted?" Will asked, nodding at the 24-hour chain store next door. Andi bit her lip and grinned.

"Do you want to see?" she said, opening up the bag and showing Will the contents. It was a box of condoms and some lube. He gave Andi a puzzled look.

"What are these for?" he said. "I thought you guys didn't use sex toys."

"Well," Andi drawled, with a mischievous grin, "this'll be the first time we've tried a live one. Assuming he says yes."

"He -" Will stared at Andi with wide eyes. "You're going to - with who?"

"Oh, come on, Will," Andi snapped. "Seriously? Who have I been mooning over since seventh grade?"

"Andi," Will said, shaking his head in amazement, "our Bradley is a conservative guy. I can't even be sure he's had sex with one girl, much less two. Much less two very hot ones."

"Thank you, dear," she said stoically, "but I know what I want. I'm not letting him go that easily. And Laurie said yes. So we're going for it. Wish us luck."

"Good luck," he said, bemused, but gave her a smile. "I really do hope he says yes. He'll be much more fun to tease."

"So, you and Toby will have to fend for yourself tonight," Andi said, getting back into the car. "That okay with you, Toby?"

"Why, sure," he said, pulling out into traffic. "What did I just agree to?"

"Andi and Laurie are gunning for some hot girl-on-girl-on-boy action with our lucky friend Bradley," Will said, raising an eyebrow at Toby.  _"You_ get to crash on Terri's floor tonight."

"Spectacular," Toby muttered, while Laurie and Andi cooed over their drugstore purchase.

Will's cell phone was silent until they reached campus, when he looked down at the display. "Well, look who it is," he said, handing it back to Laurie without answering. "Tell loverboy not to forget to take a shower."

"Hey, handsome," Laurie said, opening the cell phone and grinning at Andi. "We got your obscenely large sandwiches right here." She pressed speakerphone, and the car filled with Brad's mellow baritone.

"I never thought the word sandwich and the word obscene could sound so appealing in the same sentence," Brad said. "Thanks for picking them up. Is Will there?"

"Right here, man," Will called into the back seat. "Looks like Toby and I have plans for something else tonight, so it'll just be the three of you for dinner. Aw, too bad."

"Wait, what? What's going on?" Brad said, puzzled, and Toby leaped in.

"Will and I are catching a midnight showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show," he said. "It's an experience Will's never had, and far be it for me not to take his virgin self through the doors of Transylvanian bliss."

"Yeah, I've always wanted to see it," Will agreed, though he only had vague recollections of the show at all. It was supposed to be really out there, but he figured it would be a fun experience, at the very least. He and Toby always had fun at the movies.

"Ooooh-kay," said Brad, sounding mystified. "You guys have fun. Laurie and Andi and I will amuse ourselves."

"Oh, I bet you will," Will said, grinning. "See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Ta," said Laurie, and snapped the phone shut. "Nice one, Toby. We owe you."

"You can buy me breakfast, darlin'," he smiled, "presuming you ain't too tired to show."

They dropped Laurie and Andi off at Brad's dorm and proceeded down the block to Terri's. "You really want to see Rocky Horror tonight?" Toby asked, glancing at Will. "Or was that just an excuse to ditch the girls with Brad?"

"Either way," he said. "If we stay in, Terri's going to corner you and make you listen to details about the cheer routines they did today, or else she'll complain about your backpack being too gay or something."

Toby snorted with laughter. "Oh, Will," he giggled helplessly. "You make it such a difficult choice. Okay, Rocky Horror it is. Let's eat those sandwiches. I'm starving."

Will learned far too much about Rocky Horror while they were tucking in the capicola and pastrami. "So - you just watch the same movie over and over?" Will said, trying to understand, with his mouth full. Toby wiped a little mustard off the corner of his mouth.

"Yep," Toby agreed. "It's the same every week. Usually the same people show up every time, too. It was like... I don't know, a ritual in Louisville. We had a blast. People got dressed up in costume and acted out the show in front of the screen."

"Sounds bizarre," Will admitted. "I'm not sure if I'm going to really get it."

But Will was looking forward to going out with Toby more than he liked to admit. He'd called Terri's best girl friend to make sure she had someone else to watch her make a drunk fool of herself tonight, and called Terri herself to explain why they wouldn't be returning to Terri's dorm room until three in the morning - and she had some choice words to say about  _that_ \- but once everything was arranged, he felt gloriously free and happy. And, he had to admit, a good part of that was that he was going out with Toby. It had been way too long since they'd spent an evening together, just the two of them.

"Nice jacket," Toby said, smiling, as Will pulled on the green fleece.

"Thanks," Will replied, returning the smile. "A good friend gave me this one time back in tenth grade, when I was being an idiot."

They passed a cappuccino place on the way to Studio 35. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" Will asked. He didn't care much for the fancy espresso drinks, but he was happy to buy one for Toby. He knew he liked his coffee sweet, like candy.

"Sure, darlin'," Toby said, taking Will's arm. They went in and ordered their drinks - a regular coffee for Will; a sugar-free caramel nonfat latte with no whipped cream for Toby - then sat down by the window, watching the nightlife pass them by. Will reached across the table and took Toby's hand, holding it between the two of his.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said, looking at the table. "That wasn't very kind of me."

"Darlin', you're not the one who should be apologizing," Toby protested. "You don't always have to be  _nice,_ Will. I love you just fine the way you are, snark and sass and nasty words and everythin'."

Will sighed, chuckling. "You never make me feel anything other than good, Toby," he said. "You know, I've spent a pretty long part of this year without seeing much of you, and I don't like it. I want to make sure we don't let this happen again. I don't need to wait for football weekends to hang out. We should make a regular date of it. Once a week, you and me."

Toby's eyes sparkled at him, and he gazed up at Will with a slow smile. "Sounds perfect," he agreed. "I'm more than happy to spend more time with you. You've got yourself a date."

When they wandered back out of the coffee shop, Toby took Will's hand and held it as they walked down the street together. Will felt powerful and brave, like nothing could touch him. Even the curious gazes of college students just slid off him, and he and Toby looked right back at people without flinching. It was remarkably freeing.

"You don't mind?" Toby said, holding up Will's hand.

"No," Will said, grinning. "I don't."

When they walked into the theatre lobby, it just reinforced Will's good mood, because they were suddenly surrounded by drag queens, women in strange domestic attire and the oddest assortment of people Will had ever seen. None of them looked twice at two young men holding hands.

"Toby," Will said, a smile on his face, watching a girl in a crazy amount of makeup waltzing around with a boy in a stringy-haired bald wig, "I think I'm going to like it here."

The movie was the most amazing experience for Will. He watched the story unfold about repressed Brad Majors and his sweet girlfriend Janet Weiss as they gave in to their basest desires and most depraved longings, all on one joyous night. When Frank'N'Furter said to Brad, "There's no crime in giving yourself over to pleasure," and the audience yelled back, "There is in Ohio," Will found himself laughing until tears came to his eyes. When Janet begged for Rocky to touch-a-touch-a her until she came, Will gulped and glanced over at Toby, remembering times they'd done just that, and realizing with a start just how long it had been since it had happened. And the floor show, in which they danced dreamily around in the pool, extolling the importance of "Don't dream it - be it," was something of a wake-up call for Will. Or, rather, for Will's libido, which came to full attention after observing men and women dancing around in fishnet stockings and garter belts.

The memory of  _Toby in tights_ was just a little too close to the surface here, and when Toby leaned in to ask, "You enjoying yourself, darlin'?" Will responded with an uncompromising moan, and took Toby's hand and placed it on his hard cock. Toby exclaimed, but did not pull back, and stroked Will once, twice through his pants.

"You want to go into the men's room and take care of this?" Toby asked into his ear. Will bit his lip, considering the possibilities.

"I want - I want more than that, Toby," he said, and he gazed at him meaningfully, hoping Toby would understand.

"Will Schuester," Toby demanded, astonished. "Are you propositionin' me?"

"I don't exactly know what I'm doing," he admitted, "but I think we'd better get out of here before I maul you in front of all of Colombus."

They slipped out the back as Riff Raff was holding up his three-pronged laser pistol. "Sorry you'll be missing the end of the show, darlin'," Toby said, as Will pulled him through the lobby with one hand.

"It's okay," Will said, flipping open his phone to call a cab. "Somehow I have a feeling we'll be back."

(It never became a regular ritual with them, but Will and Toby saw Rocky Horror in the theater more than a dozen times over the next fifteen years, and every time Will found himself going crazy for Toby, as though it was their first time all over again. The one time he watched it by himself on video, he ended up wadded up in a ball on the couch, crying his eyes out. He didn't do that again.)

"Where -" Toby said, and Will gazed at his sweet lips, his eyes dark with lust.

"Terri's room," he said. "I'm sure she's crashed out at somebody else's place tonight. She never makes it back to her dorm room when she's drinking. You can bet she won't remember any of it in the morning."

"But  _you_ will," Toby said, his face troubled.

"Yeah," Will agreed, and used his thumb to trace the pattern of Toby's lips. "I will. I - I want this, Toby. I want it more than I can tell you." He looked into Toby's eyes, holding his head steady. "Do you want it, too? With me?"

"Darlin'." His voice broke as he said it. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Yes," Will said, emphatically. "I have to ask. Do you want me?"

"I've always wanted you, Will," Toby whispered. "Since - since before I had a name for it. Since we were kids and shared a bed; since you hugged me and kissed my neck on the last day of eighth grade camp. I haven't wanted anybody quite like I want you."

"That's just how I feel, Toby," Will said, and pulled their mouths together in one of the sweetest, most memorable kisses of his life. They parted, gasping, as the cab pulled up, and Will opened the door and helped Toby slide inside.

Somehow they managed to keep their hands off one another, because the dirty looks the cabbie was shooting them were not making Will feel particularly safe. His imagination was on overdrive.  _Can we - and would Toby want to - does he - ?_ Will threw a few bills at the cabbie and didn't watch him drive off, because his eyes were full of Toby: Toby's hands, Toby's round ass, Toby's strong, lithe body. The knowledge that he was going to get to touch it all in a few minutes was almost more than he could bear.

Terri's room was empty, and Will hesitated for only a moment before he locked the door behind them. "I'm just going to spread my sleeping bag on her bed," he said. "Is - is that okay?"

"It's a little tacky, Will," Toby said, his mouth twisting, but then Will saw the teasing light in his eyes, and he grabbed Toby by the waist and pulled him in, grinding their hips together like they were dirty dancing. They both moaned as they felt their mutual arousal, crushing against their abdomens with delicious friction.

"God in heaven," Toby groaned, "I never thought I'd feel this again with you, Will."

"I'm sorry, Toby," Will said, closing his eyes and tasting Toby's skin, his neck, his perfect mouth. "I was such an idiot. I can't ever not have this with you. Not ever again."

"I'm - I'm okay with that," Toby said, his voice shaking. "Let's get rid of some of these clothes."

Will watched, for the first time ever, with complete intention as Toby took off his shirt, then his pants, and finally his shorts. This wasn't Will catching a glimpse of Toby in the mirror, or Will noticing in the locker room after racquetball. This was Will, staring with open, unmitigated lust, at Toby's spectacular tight body, and saying to himself,  _God, I want him._

"You are - absolutely gorgeous," Will said, and Toby broke into a delighted, wide smile.

"Why, Will," he said, so sweetly it broke Will's heart. "Don't you know I think the same about you?"

He found himself undressing for Toby, stripping off his shirt and sliding down his boxers with frank appreciation for Toby's stare, loving the way his breath came a little faster as he watched. "I'm under your spell," Toby said, drawing their naked bodies back together. "Anything you want, darlin', and I'm sure to give it to you."

"I want you inside me," Will said, and Toby halted for a moment, staring at Will in shock.

"You - you sure about that?" he said. "You sure that's  _really_  want you want? 'Cause I'm just fine goin' the other way."

"I want that, too," Will said. "But I want this first. Is that okay?" He paused for a moment, uncertain. "Do you - ?"

"Will," Toby said, pressing him down onto the bed. "You can just shut your pretty little mouth  _right_ now, before I put my cock inside it."

"Ohhhh," Will moaned, licking his lips. "I want  _that,_ too."

"One thing at a time, darlin'," Toby murmured. Will felt his Toby's hand between his legs, stroking himself, and he pulled back a little to watch. Toby straddled him, kneeling over his arms, trapping him, and he just lay back and let himself drink in Toby's pale skin, his tight abs, his long and slender cock.

"Do you have - something slippery for us to use?" Toby asked, not letting Will move his hands. Will cast his gaze around the room.

"Vaseline?" he suggested. "Lotion?"

"Probably either one would work," Toby said, "but Will, I ain't got any condoms, and they wouldn't work with those kinds of slippery stuff anyway."

"Toby, I've never had sex with anybody," Will admitted. "I'm not putting you at any risk here."

"Well, my last test says I'm clean," Toby said, still stroking. "So let's not worry about it. It's gonna be okay."

Will could feel his attention focusing on Toby's cock, to the exclusion of all else, shutting out sight and sound and all sensation, just riveted on the motion and rhythm of Toby stroking himself. Will moaned and twitched his hands, and at last Toby shifted his weight to allow Will's arms their freedom. Will immediately snapped them around Toby's back and pulled him forcefully down on top of him. Their skin burned where it touched, and they both cried out, feeling their bodies collide.

"Oh my god," Will whimpered. "God, Toby, this is - you feel -" He shook his head, burying his face into Toby's neck, kissing him, inhaling him, trying to memorize every bit of him. "I can't believe I forgot about this, that I could possibly not want this. What kind of an idiot was I?"

"You were a scared idiot," Toby said, smiling. "And there's no tellin' that it might not happen again. But I'll be there to help you remember why we shouldn't give this up. We're too good, Will."

"This - you - god, Toby," said Will, holding him tight in his arms.  _This is where I belong,_  he thought, but couldn't quite say it.

They found a half-used tube of Vaseline in Terri's makeup case, and Will waited with mild apprehension as Toby spread it on his own cock, then made patterns on the skin below Will's balls. He felt himself clench, tightening, and he forced his muscles to relax, to let go, thinking,  _Toby's going to be inside there in just a few seconds, and you'd better make it good for him._

"How do you want me?" he asked, softly, gazing up at Toby, who was kneeling between his legs.

Toby paused, and bit his lip, and Will was absolutely shocked to see tears running down Toby's cheeks. "I'm okay," he promised Will, sniffing and wiping his face. "I - I never expected, Will, in all my born days, that you would say those words to me." He put a hand on Will's stomach, and Will felt his cock straining toward Toby's hand, like a compass, pointing unerringly toward the source of all his pleasure and desire.

"I want you just like this," Toby said, his sweet voice inviting. "You tell me, now, if anything feels less than amazing. 'Cause it shouldn't. Okay, darlin'?"

"I love it when you call me that," Will whispered, his voice barely a thread of sound. "You - you have no idea what it does to me."

"You're my sweet darlin'," Toby crooned, and he slipped one finger inside of Will at the same time he took Will's hand and put it on his own cock. Will gasped at the sensation of Toby's fingers inside him, but it was muted by his own delight in holding Toby in his hand, at last, after so many years of feeling him against his body under the covers.

"How - do you want me to touch you?" Will asked, but his hand knew what to do, knew it as well as breathing, because of course he did it to himself, even though he knew it was wrong. Even though he'd always been told there was something shameful about it, he did it anyway. He did it to himself and thought of Toby, had done so many times - and now here they were, doing it together. And Toby was  _inside him_ , just as he had been in his fantasies, and - and -

It was just more than Will could handle. "Toby," Will said, and squeezed his eyes shut, putting a hand over his mouth. "Toby, wait."

Toby immediately slipped his fingers out and backed off, watching Will with concern. "What is it, darlin'? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," Will said, shaking his head, his eyes still closed. "I'm -" He breathed, in and out, once, twice. "You. This. It's... a lot, Toby."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Toby said, stroking his chest lightly with the hand that wasn't coated with Vaseline. Will nodded. He opened his eyes, gazing up at Toby, so calm, so patient, so familiar.

"I - I just love you, Toby," he said. "I don't know why. I just do."

Toby's lip quivered, and nodded his head, blinking. Will reached for his face, drew him down so he was pressed up against him again, and they held one another, beyond lust, beyond the desire of the moment, being present in their connection. Will thought his heart might burst right out of his rib cage, it was pounding so hard. "Tell me," he begged.

"I've always loved you, Will," Toby said, sighing. "You're part of me. I love you now, and I always will."

"No matter what happens, right?" Will said. "No matter what - what happens tomorrow."

"We'll always have Ohio State?" Toby said, and Will laughed, shaky, and a little hysterical.

"We'll always have us," said Will, fiercely. "I always want you to know that no matter what else is going through my crazy, scared brain, I still love you, Toby, and that will never, ever change."

"I think I can live with that," Toby said. He did something to Will's legs, nudging them open, and then he was pressing into Will, and his hand was on Will's cock, making him gasp and call Toby's name.

"You feel amazing, darlin'," Toby said, and he  _sounded_  amazed; he sounded like someone had just given him the biggest ice cream sundae in the world. "Like no one else."

"How many other guys have you done this with?" Will asked, even as Toby penetrated him,  _was penetrating him -_ he savored the thought that went with those words more than he ever thought he would.

"Really, Will?" Toby asked, gasping. "You really want to have  _that_ conversation  _right now?"_

"Come on, " Will urged, and he gave an experimental thrust with his hips, feeling Toby's shock and hearing him catch his breath. He liked the way that thrust took Toby's perfect aplomb away for just a moment, and he did it again, with the same satisfying results. "Tell me. How many?"

"I don't know, Will," he said, groaning. "A few."

"I want to know, Toby," he said, trying for a commanding tone, but to himself it just sounded a little whiny. He pressed his hips up, squirming against Toby's body, shocked to feel Toby right up against him, realizing:  _he's all the way inside me. Toby's cock is in my ass._ He reeled at the thought, clenching his muscles, and he heard Toby respond.

"Does it feel good, darlin'?" Toby asked, and his face looked a little anxious. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No," Will said, and it was true. It did feel a little strange, kind of full and a little uncomfortable deep inside, but all the time it felt better, like he was unknotting a little at a time, making room for Toby. He liked that idea. He tried another thrust, and this time Toby pulled back and thrust with him - and the world went white.

"Toby!" he shouted, at the sudden bright flash of sensation, and Toby shushed him, looking anxiously at the door.

"I'm sure boys ain't supposed to be in the dorm at this hour," Toby hissed. "You want someone to catch you like  _this?"_

Will gazed up at Toby and started to laugh, lightly at first, but then with greater hilarity. The more he tried to repress the laughter, the more it bubbled forth, and the perplexed, slightly annoyed look on Toby's face only made him laugh harder.

"So you're Frank'N'Furter," Will said between giggles, when he could talk again. "And I'm Brad?"

"Oh, for the love of Pete, Will," Toby snapped. "This ain't a fuckin' movie."

"No," said Will, and he was suddenly calm again. He felt serene, confident. "This is real life. This is fucking real life." He tried that thrust again, hoping Toby would push back the way he had, and he did, and it was as exquisite a sensation as he'd ever had. "This is you, fucking me, for real."

"Will," Toby said, gasping. "Oh, Will, it's - you feel -"

"How many?" Will asked again, and suddenly he was desperate to know, needed to hear him say it, to find out who he was competing against, who else could satisfy Toby this way.

"More than I've counted," Toby said in defeat, and he closed his eyes. It was the first time Will had ever seen that expression of regret on Toby's sweet face. "More than... fifty, Will. Quite a few more than that."

"Oh," said Will, feeling suddenly inadequate.  _Just one of the more than fifty,_  he thought, and it made him want to cry. Toby caught something of what Will was feeling, apparently, because he leaned down to cradle his face in his hands, desperately forcing him to look into his eyes. It was almost more intimate than anything, to have Toby holding his gaze this way, and Will whimpered and tried to hang on to some kind of control.

" _You_  are what I was looking for, all those times," Toby said, right into his face. "You. Not someone like you, or someone who looked like you. You.  _You're_  who I want. Not anyone else." He kissed Will gently on the lips, so tenderly. Will was lost in his regard. "Do you understand, Will Schuester?"

"Yes, Toby Grey," he said, kissing him back. His fear was gone. "I understand."

They kissed again, this time with more passion. He felt their bodies, connected at the root, and even though the angle was awkward, he held Toby close while he rocked his hips, loving the feeling of his own cock grinding against Toby's firm stomach as Toby's pressed deep into him. He was awash in sensation, loving every minute of it, not wanting it to end. It was completely unlike what he'd expected - his need to get off was completely subsumed by his desire to stay like this with Toby, as long as he possibly could.

"Your ass feels incredible," Toby said. Will felt a shimmering rush of desire, radiating from Toby's cock and filling his entire body. He stammered words of approval, hearing the sound of  _yes_ and  _Toby_  and  _more_  coming from his lips. He said the words he only had said in his dreams.

"Fuck me, Toby," he hissed, hot and hard, and Toby responded with an unbelievable sound, a wailing, desperate sound, and then Toby  _did -_ he took Will by the hips and held him at that perfect angle and slid into him, over and over, and Will thought:  _nothing could feel better than this._

"Touch yourself, darlin'," Toby whispered, and that breathy little request was just about the hottest thing Will had ever, ever heard.

"I - I don't do that," Will said, and of course it was absurd, because he did, of  _course_ he did, and he thought of Toby when he did it. But the shame was too great.

"Do it for me," said Toby, and he put his hand over Will's, led him to pick up his red and weeping cock, and awkwardly wrapped his hand around Will's, urging his strokes to pick up speed. Somehow that made it okay, and Will was able to touch himself before Toby's eyes, without embarrassment. Toby drank him in, eyes fixed on the action of Will's hand on himself.

"You like - this?" Will asked, suddenly shy.

"You have to ask?" Toby laughed, pushing into him harder. Will felt something inside him take flight, the fears and embarrassment of nineteen years of being told  _no, don't_ and  _you're wrong for wanting that,_ winging away on the radiant joy of being loved by Toby.

"I never want – I never want to do anything else," Will panted, feeling the tension inside him begin to crest. "Just – this, for as long as we can. Until morning. Just make love to me until morning. Please."

"Will," Toby said, "darlin', my sweet darlin', you never had to ask twice." He saw Toby's breath coming faster, knew it was going to be the end for both of them, and he couldn't do anything more than hold on.

The shame came thundering back upon the event of him coming all over Toby's chest, but Toby was sweet, he let him know that  _yes,_ he loved it, and there was nothing wrong with loving it, that Will could love it too. And Will found that he did. The second time they made love, he made sure to ask for it, to ask Toby to let him come on his chest and –  _god_ – his face, and Toby just let him do it. He really did seem to love it.

And all the other things he asked for that night, to suck Toby's cock and to be sucked in return, and, much later, as dawn drew nigh, to bury his own cock in Toby's tight, perfect ass – Toby never made him feel anything other than delight and pleasure for wanting those things. That had always been the way with Toby, and Will didn't know why he was surprised to find that Toby was exactly the kind of lover he'd always needed. Toby had always been everything else Will had needed. Why not this, too?

They lay on Will's sleeping bag, wrapped in one another, sticky and spent – more than spent, Will thought drowsily, rather amazed at himself for being able to come that many times in one night – watching the light creep into the room. "I think we should probably get up," Toby said, and Will's legs tightened around Toby's, preventing him from moving. Toby laughed gently.

"You really don't want Terri finding us like this," he warned. "Not in her bed."

"That would be an epic fight," Will agreed. "She'd probably be more upset about the come stains than the fact that I'm having sex with someone else."

"We did, Will," Toby said. "We had sex. This was real. You can't pretend it didn't happen."

"No," Will said, shocked. "I – why would I want to do that?"

"Come on, darlin'," Toby said, propping himself up on his elbows. "You've done it before. You told me all through our years at B-W. I heard it over and over.  _I'm not gay, Toby."_

Will's brow wrinkled. "I'm not," he said.

Toby stared at him in disbelief. "You've got to be shitting me," he said flatly.

"Toby, it's not – I'm totally into this," Will insisted, grabbing his arm. "I am. I loved everything we did, and I – I love you. But I'm not – I don't want any other guys. I've never wanted anybody else. I like girls."

"And me," Toby said. Will nodded emphatically. Toby's face did acrobatics, wrestling with this idea.

"I guess that'll have to do," Toby said finally. Will laughed, relaxing.

"I really don't want anybody else, Toby," he said.

Toby glanced around the room, at the Ohio State pennant on the wall, at the girl kitsch on the dresser. "What about Terri?"

"Oh, well… Terri," Will said. He sighed, sitting up, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned his head into his hand, rubbing his face. "Jesus."

"Look, darlin', you don't have to have all the answers right now," Toby said, putting a hand on his back. "It's enough that we're here together. And when we get back to B-W, we can still…" He lay his head on Will's back, and breathed deeply. "We can have this."

"Yeah," Will said, his face sober. He looked into his hands. They smelled like sex, like Toby. "We should take a shower."

The shower was another entire world of wonderful, with slippery skin and warm water, and if Will hadn't already come so many times, he knew he would be doing it again, with Toby's mouth on him.  _Later,_ he told himself.  _When we get home._

When they had cleaned up, and straightened up the room, and opened the windows to air it out to mask the worst of their sex smells, Will flipped open his phone and called Brad. He got his answering machine, and he grinned to himself.  _Maybe they both got lucky last night._  He looked at Toby, tying his shoes, and Toby caught his eye and smiled at him, a sweet, private smile.  _Just for them._  They had it back. It was better than ever.  _How could he be any luckier than this?_  he thought. But he felt uneasy, on edge, like something wasn't quite square. He was so tired.

"Toby?" he said, reaching for him, and Toby came to him immediately. Their arms went around each other, and they stood there, holding each other.

"I'm afraid to let go," Will said.

"I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," Toby said.

* * *

But Will was the one who ran, in the end.

He didn't call Toby for a week, after that, wouldn't return his increasingly sad and bitter phone messages. He didn't know exactly why he did it. He just knew it was better not to see Toby. He never said the words  _I'm scared,_ or  _I miss you,_ even though he felt them, but even so, he didn't pick up the phone and call him. He avoided eating in their dorm cafeteria, and instead went out for dinner, or ate by himself at a different cafeteria across campus.

It went on for eight days. Until one evening, when Will was in the middle of studying for his Music of the Civil Rights Era class, and Brad reached over and slammed his book shut, right under his nose. Will jumped back, startled.

"When did you get here?" he said.

"A few minutes ago," Brad said. "You weren't answering your phone, and I got worried. Andi and Laurie are worried too. So I drove up after my last class today."

"Well… hi. Sorry to worry you. I'm fine, as you can see." He looked at the slammed book. "So - what was that for?"

"You," snapped Brad. Will had never heard him angry, not once in nine years of friendship, and it blew his eyes wide and made him take notice. He realized Brad had gotten a haircut.

"What?" Will said.

"What is this bullshit?" Brad said. "What happened between you and Toby?"

Will opened his mouth. He shut it again. Brad's mouth went into a hard, firm line.

"You are not going to get away with this," he said. "Not this time. Have you noticed what a mess Toby is? Are you thinking of anything except yourself?" He threw up his hands and wheeled away, disgusted. "What kind of a best friend are you? Whatever happened, you need to get over it."

"We had sex, Brad," Will blurted. He looked at his hands, remembering them on Toby, _in_ Toby, the smell of him, the taste… "We had… a lot of sex. Amazing sex."

Brad sat down on the bed next to him. "Well, that's good, right?" he said, clearly confused.

"Did you and Andi and Laurie - ?" Will looked up at Brad, and watched his face go red, and smiled. "So how was it?"

"It was spectacular," Brad admitted. "But that's  _not_ what I'm talking about here. Jesus, Will. He's hardly left his room in the past week. You broke him." Brad put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little angry push. "You need to  _go fix him."_

"But – Brad," Will said, "you and Andi and Laurie, afterwards. How did you feel? Was it the same? Or what? Was everything different? How are you going to be together, now? How can you – how can you face them, knowing what you did?"

"What do you mean, how can I face them?" Brad said, perplexed. "They're my friends, and – well, I love them, and I don't see how that changes just because of one night of… " He flushed deeper, and the grin on his face was a little bit smug. "So what? We've got history. It's more than just a one night stand. We'll do it again." His eyes, still angry, shot back to Will. "But that doesn't mean I abandon them and forget they're my friends."

"Brad," Will pleaded, "you've got to understand. This was – a really big deal. A  _really_ big deal."

"Yeah, it was!" Brad yelled. "For both of you, Will! For years I've been watching you dance around each other and staring into each other's fucking eyes and I don't even  _know_  what, and I'm just waiting for you to declare your everlasting love for one another and get it  _over_ with." He looked helplessly at Will. "What the hell are  _you_ waiting for?"

"I don't know," Will said, and he stared miserably at his shoes. "I just don't think I can do that, Brad."

"Why not?" Brad was apoplectic. "I just don't get you, Will. You've got something most people would  _kill_ for. Nobody gets this kind of love handed to them on a platter, but apparently,  _you did,_ when you were fucking nine years old!" Brad's hands locked behind his neck and he paced the room, breathing deeply. "So – help me understand here. Why can't you just  _take it?"_

Will had no answer. He just kept staring at his feet and shook his head, back and forth. Brad swore and flung his hands down.

"Fine. If you can't do that, at least go talk to him. He needs his best friend back. This is as confusing to him as it is to you. You owe it to him." Brad grabbed Will's hands and pulled him to his feet. "He  _loves you."_

"I love him, too," he said.

"Well, Jesus. Go with that, then. Start there. See what happens." Brad handed him his room key, opened the door and all but shoved him into the hallway. "And call me later. I hate to get my news secondhand."

"Brad," Will said, pausing, and then hugged him, hard. "Thanks," he said.

"Well, I'm apparently just always around," Brad said, sighing. "I'll be at Laurie's."

It was a short walk down the hall and up two flights to Toby's room, but it felt like a million miles away. Will almost turned around and went back more than once, but he eventually made it to Toby's door.

"Hey, Will," said Toby's next door neighbor. "Is Toby sick? We haven't see much of him."

"I don't know," Will said. The boy's face was kind and concerned, and Will realized Toby could  _really_ be sick, and he never would have known. He felt the familiar flush of shame.

"Well," the boy said, looking embarrassed. "Take care of him, or whatever you guys do." He patted Will on the shoulder and kept walking.

Will knocked on Toby's door. "Toby?" he said, quietly. "It's Will. Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Toby said, in his sweet voice, and Will felt his heart wrench at the sound. He remembered times when he would have killed to hear that voice. He remembered times he could have come instantly, at one word from Toby. He didn't understand why he hadn't made the walk down the hall and two flights up eight days ago. He didn't understand, but here he was now, and he wasn't going to let Toby down again.

He opened the door and let himself in. The room was dark, and it didn't smell too good. Will opened the blinds and pushed open the window, letting some fresh air in. He saw Toby on the bed, sitting propped against the wall, his arms around his knees. "Are you, uh." He tentatively sat on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"No," Toby said. Will waited for more, but that was all.

"Okay," Will said. "Are you – are you sick? Do you need something?"

"No," said Toby, "and no. I don't need anything from you."

Will felt the words stab into his gut. "Okay," he said again. "I can go, if you want."

"No," Toby whispered. His hand shot out and fumbled against Will, and Will took his hand. They sat there, with their hands clasped so tightly Will thought he might be cutting off his circulation.

"I love you more than I'm mad," Toby said.

Will swallowed. "I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"What are you sorry for?" Toby looked at him. His eyes were red and crusty with sleep, his hair grown a little too shaggy, and he looked like he probably hadn't been out of that t-shirt or shorts in a few days. "Seriously," he said. "Tell me. What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry for – for not calling you back," Will said. Toby's laugh cut him deeper than his words had.

"Just say it, Will," he said bitterly. "Just say,  _I'm sorry for letting you fuck me."_

"I'm not sorry for that," Will whispered, shocked. "I dream about it every night, Toby."

Toby's shoulders dropped, and he began to sob. Will had never heard him cry like this. He couldn't keep his hands from reaching out, and Toby didn't push him away. He wound his hands under Toby's arms, holding him up, and let Toby rest on his shoulder, and cry until he was done crying. Will whispered words of comfort into his hair, and some of them sounded an awful lot like  _honey_  and  _baby,_ words he'd never said to Toby before, and didn't much care to be saying now, but apparently he was saying them anyway.

"You're not supposed to be able to get back under my skin this easily," Toby said, accusingly. He pushed Will away and tore his shirt off, then used it to blow his nose. "Disgusting thing," he said, holding it out from his body, then balled it up and made a basket into the laundry hamper across the room. "Hand me a clean shirt, would you?"

"I kind of like you this way," Will admitted, letting his hands trace the strong muscles on Toby's back. Toby groaned.

"You can  _not_ tell me you find me attractive when I smell like this," Toby said, shaking his head. "I'm gonna lose all respect for you, Will."

"I think you could use a shower," he said. "But I still… I still look at you like this, and I want… I want you." Will took a deep breath. "I'm still in love with you. It hasn't gone away, not in eight days. Not since we were kids. Not ever, Toby."

Toby started to cry again, steady tears this time, his face in his hand. Will leaned in and held him against his chest. "I can't do this, Will," Toby said. "You're destroying me. I feel like every time we get a little close, you cut my legs off, and I'm stuck, I can't do anything but lie there and  _bleed."_

"I won't do that anymore," Will promised. "I swear. I'm done with that. I want –" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I want what we had, at Ohio. And I want to be your friend. But… I don't think I can do anything more than that."

"Fuckbuddies, then?" Toby said, viciously. Will gasped and pulled away.

"No," Will said. "No, that's not it. I can't tell you how I love you, Toby, I just don't have the words for it. But I can't be – what you want me to be."

"You ain't gay," said Toby, and his voice was sad and tired, like an abandoned car by the side of the road. "You just love me."

"I do love you." Will smoothed Toby's too-long hair back from his face. "I love you so much it – it feels like we're one person. Like your heart is right here, inside mine." He brushed away the tears that were dropping onto Toby's chest from his own eyes.

"I get to be your dirty secret." Toby's bitterness was drying up, leaving behind a dark, cold hole. Will thought he might crawl into the hole and hide, but he knew he'd been doing that for eight days, and he was done with that.

"You're the best thing in my life," Will insisted. "Everybody who knows us can see that. Hell, even your next-door neighbor, whatever his name is, he can see it." He laughed. "I'm an idiot sometimes."

"Yeah you are," Toby said, and his lips twitched. He looked at Will, and he smiled. "God dammit, Will. How do you do that to me?"

"Do what?" Will was so relieved to see Toby smiling, that he didn't care what it was.

"Turn everything around and make it okay? You really hurt me, you got that? You almost killed me. I almost stopped livin', right here on this mattress, because of what happened."

"Toby," Will whispered, shocked, and Toby nodded.

"I know it's stupid, and I don't think I'm gonna ever feel like that again. But it was a near thing. You – you affect me. I can't go through that a second time, darlin.' You need to tell me you won't abandon me like that again."

"I promise," he said, meaning it. "I never will." He reached out a hand and touched Toby's skin, stroking him, and felt Toby pulling away. "What is it?" he said.

"I need a shower in the worst way," Toby said, standing up. "I ain't letting you any closer before I brush my teeth. And these sheets, you don't want to know what's on 'em."

"I'll make your bed for you while you shower," Will offered, and Toby started to giggle, that adorable, high-pitched giggle. Will experienced it like a delicate ocean breeze, the best sound in the world.

"God, Will," Toby said, still giggling. "On the page where a gay man's porn is displayed, there'd be a picture of you, looking at me like that, saying  _'I'll make your bed for you while you shower.'_ "

"Looking at you like what?" Will said, grinning at Toby's amusement.

"Like I was a dessert," Toby said. "Like I tasted better than pie."

"Better than pie?" Will laughed, poking Toby in the ribs, and Toby shied away, protesting. "You're sweeter, that's for sure. Your voice – god, Toby."

"What  _about_ my voice, Will?" Toby sighed, his lips twisting.

"I guess that might be straight man's porn?" he said, shrugging, and Toby dissolved into helpless giggles again. "I don't know how to describe it, Toby, but hearing you talk, your laugh… you could read the phone book and it would make me hard."

"Oh, yeah?" Toby said, delighted. "Am I making you hard… right now?" He ran a hand down Will's rib cage, to the button on his fly.

"Yeah," Will said, squirming. "You should go shower before I try to do something about it."

But Toby was already unbuttoning his fly, kneeling between his legs, and tugging Will's jeans down. "This is better before a shower, anyway," he said. "Especially if you want to come on my face again, darlin'."

"Oh, Jesus," Will gasped, feeling Toby's mouth on his cock. "You – you sure you want this, Toby, don't feel like you have to –"

"Will," Toby said, his smile smug. "You said you've been dreaming about something all week. Well, so have I. Let me have my moment."

It took an embarrassingly short time, what with the stress of their week apart, and Toby's incredibly talented mouth, and Will decided Toby being shirtless sure didn't hurt. He put his hands on Toby's back and stroked his skin while Toby went down on him, and when he gasped and nudged Toby to tell him it was time, Toby didn't let him go, he just hung onto Will's hips and swallowed him down like strawberry wine. Will's head swam with the strength of his orgasm.

"Well, darlin'," Toby said, chuckling, and unbuttoned his jeans. "If my neighbors didn't know we were doin' stuff before, I'm pretty sure they know now."

"Was I too loud?" Will put a hand, far too late, over his lips, and gazed at the open window in horror.

"I think it was the words, 'Toby, your fucking mouth,' that were the dead giveaway." Toby's eyes did a tap routine, a waltz and a ronde de jamb, stepping lively as he discarded his dirty clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

Will lay back on the filthy sheets and tried to decide if he should be worried, or embarrassed, or both. In the end, he settled on neither. He and Toby were friends. Best friends. He smiled. Whatever they did in the privacy of their own rooms was just that – private. Or it would be, if he remembered to shut the window next time.

 _I love Toby,_  he thought.  _Toby loves me. What else really matters?_

When Toby got out of the shower, teeth brushed and hair freshly clipped, Will had changed the sheets, and was waiting naked on top of them. "Goodness," Toby said, his smile delighted. "What's this all about, then?"

"You got to live your dream," Will said. He held up the bottle of lube he'd found in Toby's drawer, and smiled back, reaching for him. "My turn."


	6. 19 years - Ohio State University, Columbus, OH - Brad/Andi/Laurie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happened with Brad and Laurie and Andi while Will and Toby were at Rocky Horror. My girlfriend demanded het sex and F/F sex, and this fulfils both. But I feel a little self-serving writing this story, ostensibly about three OCs, and passing it off as Glee fanfic. Plus, writing sex containing Brad Ellis, even the character, smacks of RPS, and I'm mildly squicked by it. However, I felt the conversation they have about polyamory was still important to the plot. So here it is... you can read or ignore as you prefer. More Will/Toby in the next chapter. -amy

"You know, I never would have pegged Will as one who would enjoy Rocky Horror," Brad said, munching on his sandwich. "But I'm not always the most observant person."

"Yeah," Laurie agreed, leaning back in her chair. She shot an amused glance at Andi, who was in turn trying not to crack up. "Brad… we have something we want to tell you."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" he said in mock horror, and Andi choked on a laugh. "What's going on?" He took a sip of his water and listened attentively. He was an excellent listener.  _Probably came from all those years of selective mutism in class._ Brad talked plenty outside of school, but even now, he had a hard time participating in front of a group. It was a good thing his chosen instrument didn't require any spoken component.

"We're having trouble with something," Laurie said. "We think maybe you could help us out."

"Sure," Brad said, nodding. "Just let me know what I can do."

"That's a loaded question," Andi muttered. Laurie kicked her under the table.

"You know that Andi and I have been together a while now," she said. Brad nodded, taking another bite of sandwich. "We're thinking about adding a third."

"Third what?" Brad said.

"A third person," Laurie clarified. "To our relationship."

Brad's chewing slowed, and eventually stopped. He regarded Laurie with suspicion. "Why… would you want to do that?" he said. "Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. Aren't things going pretty well with you two?"

"Yeah, they're going really well," Laurie agreed. "That's why we thought now would be a natural time to add on. It's something I've always wanted."

"Really." Brad's smile was gone. He chewed on the inside of his lip and seemed to be absorbed by a spot on the table. "You think that'd work out for you?"

"Well, yeah," Laurie said again. "There's a lot of good reasons why it's better with three. First of all, I don't always have the time or energy to spend on Andi that I'd like to. I've got dance class or rehearsal almost every night, and she's by herself too much."

"Hey, I keep myself busy," Andi protested. "I don't sit at home waiting for you. I have a social life."

She looked fondly at Andi. "I'd feel better if I knew you were having fantastic sex when I wasn't there."

Brad shook his head. "See, I don't get that. Wouldn't you feel jealous if she were off with some other girl?"

"No," Laurie said. "Because I know Andi loves me. She can have anybody else she wants. But it would be better if it were someone we both loved."

"Would it?" Brad said quietly. "What if they decided they'd rather be just with each other? You'd be screwed." He looked steadily at Andi.

"Brad," Andi said. "Look. Laurie and I love each other a lot. Like, more than I ever thought was possible. How could I be threatened if she wants to be with other people? I don't want to control her. That would be, like, the opposite of love. I want her to freely choose me, every day."

Laurie took her hand across the table. "And I do, love." Their affection was palpable, and they never bothered to hide the intensity of their love among their friends. Will and Toby put up with it with good humor, but Brad seemed uncomfortable around it.  _And I'm pretty sure I know why,_  Andi thought.

"It just seems like an unnecessary risk." Brad shook his head. "Why put what you have on the line?"

"For something better," Laurie insisted. "Have you ever been in a triad before?"

"No," Brad scoffed. "Have  _you?"_

"Yes," she said. "And it's amazing."

He stared at her. "You… when?"

"Freshman and sophomore year," she said. "Before Andi. I kept seeing one of them through junior and senior year, but I broke it off when it was clear that he wanted to sleep around instead of being honest with me."

"What?  _He?"_ Brad whipped his head at Andi, who grinned at his expression, and back to Laurie. "But you're – you're a –"

"Big dyke?" Laurie suggested.

"You said it, not me," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "Laurie, I've never heard you talk about guys, not ever."

"I've had relationships with boys," Laurie said. "They just need to be the right sort. I don't have a lot of patience for posturing and male egos. Girls are usually easier." She added, at Andi's expression, "About some things."

"You've got a particular girl in mind, then?" Brad said, looking resigned.

"Not… exactly." Andi listed points on her fingers. "We want a good friend, someone we've known for years, someone we both find attractive."

Brad considered this for a few moments, then sighed. "Andi, I know he keeps saying differently, but Will's  _gay._  Plus he's totally in love with Toby. That wouldn't work at all."

" _Will?"_  Andi choked on her sandwich, and Laurie let out an honest laugh. "Um,  _no._  If I wanted to go the fag hag route, I'd go with  _Toby._  He's way hotter." She shook her head. "No, Brad. That's not who we had in mind."

"Well… who, then?" Brad asked, honestly perplexed.

"You think so little of yourself," Laurie said, her voice silky and low, "that you can't imagine satisfying two gorgeous girls?"

Brad stopped moving – stopped  _breathing –_  for a long, tense moment. He let his eyes wander to Andi's amused expression, then they made their circuitous journey back to Laurie, who was leaning toward Brad expectantly. "You," he said. "And me." He sounded like he wasn't quite sure how they added up correctly.

"If you want us," Laurie said.

Brad didn't panic; he just looked confused. "Laurie," he said. "I – all that summer after junior year, when we first met – I was trying to get you to notice me, to indicate even the smallest shred of interest. But all you wanted was – well. You and Andi were pretty well gone over each other. I just – I gave up."

"Jeez, you big dork," Andi retorted. "You didn't even notice  _me_  following you around like a little lost puppy, did you? All  _you_ wanted was Laurie."

"You -?" Brad cocked his head at Andi, surprised. "That was… huh." He shook his head to clear it. "I thought you were just pissed at me all the time."

"I was," Andi admitted. "Because I was so fucking in love with you."

Brad's face split in a shy smile. "You were?" he said softly. The part of Andi that belonged to Brad, and always would, went mushy.

"Still am," she muttered, shrugging.

"Andi," he said, chuckling in surprise. "You're in love with  _Laurie."_

"Brad," Laurie protested. "You don't get it. You can be in love with more than one person at a time." She raised an eyebrow at Andi. "She wants you. I said yes. The ball's in your court."

He hesitated only one more moment before reaching for Andi's hand. "I never… I mean, we had some good times together at camp," he said, "but I don't know why I never thought that you… really thought about  _me_  that way."

"I was kind of obsessed with Laurie," Andi said, feeling her face heat up. "It stands to reason you'd give up on  _her_. But I never stopped… wanting you."

"Jeez," he marveled. "I did give up on her. But I never stopped wanting  _either_  of you."

"Sounds like this might be working out for you, then," Laurie said. She stood and walked slowly to him, kneeling beside his chair. "Brad, you're a nice guy. I always knew that. There's no reason why this wouldn't be a good thing for all of us." She put a hand on his arm. "We're not interested in this being a casual fling, but – you don't have to give us an answer yet. We can wait."

Brad looked from Andi's hand, clasped in his, to Laurie's touch on his arm. He started to say something, hesitated, then reached out his other hand to stroke gentle fingers down Laurie's face. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she made a humming noise of approval.

Andi's fingers tightened on Brad's as she watched them together, and she found her breath coming faster as Laurie leaned in to Brad's touch. "I guess that's a yes, then," she said.

"Yes," Brad said, in wonderment, staring into Laurie's sculpted face. "Andi...?"

She got up from where she sat across from him, not letting his hand go, and came around to stand beside him, placing her hand on his chest. "What is it?"

"This really is... okay?" He turned his head toward her, eyes wide and stunned. "You want this with me?"

"Christ, you really are  _slow_  sometimes," she said, and curled a hand around his neck to tug his face down to hers. His lips met hers with a surprised "Mmmph!" They were soft, and warm, and exactly what Andi had always imagined they'd be, all these years.  _Such a fucking long time to wait,_  she thought, through her bright flush of lust.

"I want you," she murmured into his mouth, and he took a short, sharp intake of breath. "And Laurie wants me to have you."

Brad relaxed into the kiss, let Andi deepen it, but his brow was knitted, and he pulled back to regard Laurie, who was watching them with a faint flush on her pale cheeks. "And you, Laurie?" he asked, somewhat hoarse with feeling. "Tell me what you want."

"You're... quite lovely together," Laurie said, putting a hand on her chest. She laughed, shakily. "I'd forgotten how much I do enjoy seeing my lovers with other people."

Brad's face hardened, and he glanced at the floor, steadying himself. "I have to admit, it's flattering," he said. "Very. And... tempting." He looked at Andi, and the flash of emotion behind his eyes made her feel a little faint. "I never knew this was possible." His voice shook, nearly collapsed, and he let his head fall forward. "It never even occurred to me. Not once." He breathed once, and again. "I don't think I can do it."

"I understand, Brad," Laurie said. "It's a lot to take in."

"No," he said, loud, insistent. Andi's eyes flew open and flickered to Laurie, who looked equally surprised. "You don't understand. This is..." He shook his head again, slowly, struggling with the words. "This is  _exactly_  what I want."

Andi felt a thrill of possibility, but as she took in Brad's anguished face, she knew she was missing something. "So what's the fucking problem, Brad?"

"Laurie," he said, and she gazed up at him, kneeling by his feet. His expression was suffused with regret. "I fell in love with you," he said, his voice small and pained. "But when you and Andi... decided you wanted each other, back in junior year... I put all that feeling away. I just... I couldn't  _not_  be your friend, just because I wanted more."

"Brad," Laurie breathed, but he shook his head.

"Let me finish." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't think I can get through this if you interrupt me."

"It's okay, Brad," Andi said, stroking his chest with her hand, but he surprised her with a harsh laugh.

"It's not. It's not okay, Andi. Because I  _love you,_  too." His grip on her hand grew so tight it was painful, and she felt the words cut her like a blade. They made her gasp, but he wouldn't let her turn away, he just pulled her close against him, her tiny form tucked under his arm. It felt warm and safe.

"Yeah?" she said, her voice far too needy for her liking.

"Yeah," he agreed, more gently. "You've been my friend for so long, sometimes I forget how much I really do love you." She felt his lips pressed to her hair, and it was like it broke something inside her. She started to cry.

"Hey," he said, laughing a little. "We can't  _both_  fall apart at the same time."

"Brad," Andi said, gritting her teeth against the traitorous tears. "Skip to the part where you explain what the  _fucking problem_  is."

He hugged her, suddenly, fiercely, and she slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her wet face into his shirt. "I even love it when you get pissed," he sighed.

"That's because you're an  _idiot,"_ she said, but her voice came out all stupid and adoring and stuff.

"The problem," he said, sounding a little calmer in the face of their familiar banter, "is that I think if something like... this... is going to work for me, everybody's got to be in love with everybody." He looked from Andi to Laurie. "I'm pretty sure you don't feel that way about me, Laurie."

Andi watched Laurie, impassive under Brad's frank inquiry. "I don't..." she started, then sighed quietly. "I don't generally let people in far enough to fall in love with them," she admitted. "Andi snuck in under my radar."

"Hey, no short jokes," Andi grumbled.

Laurie's smile was troubled. "I just don't know, Brad," she said, her gaze frank. "I can't be sure if I love you until we give it a try. I don't think there's any other way I'm going to be willing to... to let you see that part of me, unless I'm convinced it's real."

He nodded, slowly. "I guess that makes sense," he said. "Well, for me... it's real." He let his breath leave his chest in a long, slow sigh, and stroked Andi's hair. "I'm just a little freaked out that you're going to try this on, and then decide to leave me for her, anyway." He swallowed. "Again."

Andi felt Laurie's slender arms tuck in under hers around Brad. Her soft fingers stroked Andi's arm, just inside the elbow, where her skin was most sensitive. "Andi's not going to give you up," she said, and the love in her voice made Andi quake inside. "I'm thinking she's just as likely to leave me for you."

"Look," snapped Andi. "First of all, I don't like being talked about as though I'm not here. And second, I'm not leaving  _either_ of you. You're just going to have to fucking figure this out."

"Pushy, isn't she?" Brad's voice held a smile, and he sighed again as Laurie lay her head on his chest, next to Andi.

"I can be pretty insistent, myself," Laurie said, "when I know what I want." She tipped up her face and pressed her lips against the coarse bristles on Brad's chin. "You're sweet," she said, quietly, meditatively, as her lips made their way up his neck, to his ear. "And funny... but there's a lot you keep hidden. It intrigues me." She breathed the word  _intrigues_  right into his ear, and he half-groaned, half-gulped in encouragement. "Is that enough for now? Enough to let Andi love you, and let me... court you?"

"Jesus," he whimpered, as Laurie stroked down his chest, to his stomach. "You're persuasive."

"I do want this," Laurie said, her low voice firm. "I know what a relationship like this can be. It's the kind of love that's worth working at. It doesn't have to be head-over-heels for it to be real, you know."

"I know," he agreed. "But I remember how I felt... about you. It felt pretty head-over-heels to me. It would be the best if it could be mutual."

Andi and Brad let out nearly identical gasps as Laurie pulled Brad's face down, so it was even with hers. "Let me find out," she said, urgently, her eyes roving over his face. "I need... I need you to show me how you love me."

"Laurie," he said, breathing heavily. He slipped his fingers out from Andi's and ran both hands through Laurie's hair, and their mouths met, hungry and searching. Andi stepped back to give them room to press their bodies together, and Brad made a moaning sound that lit a fire in Andi's core.

"This... has got to be the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," Andi said. She ran a hand over her dry mouth, and reached out to touch the small of Laurie's back. Andi felt Laurie rock her hips into Brad, and his shuddering response, and she let the deep reverberation of it roll through her.

"Yes," said Laurie - though Andi couldn't be sure if she was responding to Andi's comment, or just reacting to Brad's hands on her body. He was becoming less tentative, trusting Laurie's encouragement, and Andi could tell it was working for her.

"Less clothing..." Andi prompted, tugging at Laurie's shirt, and Laurie chuckled, rich and sexy. She pulled back long enough to strip her shirt off, and before Brad could get nervous about it, she drew his hands up to cover her breasts.

"Whoa," he said.

Andi ran her hands under Brad's shirt from behind, letting her fingers stroke through the hair on his chest. It was silky and felt far better than she'd ever expected. "Too fast?"

He laughed, shakily, but shook his head. "I'm... just camera shy. You're watching me, and that makes me a little nervous. Plus, this collective experience? It's new for me."

"You're lovely," said Laurie, smiling, before Andi could chime in. Brad's surprised, pleased look was worth it.

"You might as well be clear, Brad," said Andi, laying her head against his back, listening to the rumble of his voice. "How much of this is new, period?"

"Most of it," he admitted. "I've never really had a girlfriend before. There was the stuff  _we_ did, Andi - but we were just kids." He considered Laurie, standing half-naked before him, and added, "I don't much feel like just a kid, right now."

They drew his shirt over his head, then let it fall to the floor. Laurie took Andi's hand and brought her around to stand in front of Brad. "Okay so far, love?" she asked softly.

"Do you have to ask?" Andi replied with a wide smile, feeling the familiar soft skin of Laurie's stomach and back under her hands. She let Laurie help her take her shirt off, glancing at Brad with a sudden stab of shyness. "Now we're all even," she said.

"I didn't realize it was a contest," Brad said, sitting back in his chair. He looked a little flushed, and his breathing was ragged, but he was smiling.

"Not a contest, no," Laurie said. The amazing sensation of their skin touching always stunned Andi, even three years later, and she let herself get lost in it for a moment, closing her eyes and holding Laurie against her. Almost instinctively she sought her lips, and she nearly forgot Brad was there, until he made an approving noise and they looked over at him.

"... Wow," he said, eyes wide and blinking.

"So, watching two girls together..." Laurie said, and that was definitely a smirk on her face, "does that do anything for you?"

"Yes?" he said, tentatively. Andi cracked up.

"It's not a test, you doofus," she said. "There's no wrong answer."

"Well, I don't want to be rude," he said, crossing his arms. "Last time I checked, most lesbians didn't much care to be watched by guys."

"Um, not much of a lesbian," Andi objected, waving her hand. "And totally into being watched by  _you."_

"I'm in favor of things that turn you on," said Laurie. "Mostly I was teasing, though. I don't know too many guys who don't like to watch girls together."

"Do girls like to watch guys together?" he said, curiously.

"Yes," Laurie and Andi said simultaneously, and they fell over each other in giggles.

"Sorry I can't oblige you there," Brad said, shrugging. "Guys have never really done anything for me."

Andi came and sat on his lap, which inspired a pleased smile. "Do you think that's a problem?" she said, bumping him with her head. "You're straight. That's just who you are."

" _You_  thought you were straight," he said, putting his arms around her and snuggling her. The feeling of his skin was so different from Laurie's, but he was warm and big and gave her shivers.

"Um, maybe  _you_  thought I thought I was straight." She raised an eyebrow at his expression. "Just because I never did anything with a girl doesn't mean I didn't want to."

"What about you?" Brad said to Laurie, who went to sit on the edge of the table, half-naked and completely unselfconscious, legs swinging.

"I always knew I liked girls," Laurie said, shrugging. "Since I was a kid. Boys, too. My older brother is gay, and my parents are fine about it. It wasn't a big deal for me. I'm attracted to people, not their plumbing." She eyed Brad's jeans. "Though I'm definitely  _interested_  in the plumbing."

"Uh." Brad turned red, and chuckled nervously as Andi stroked a hand through his straw-blonde hair. "Yeah, that... that's going to be new for me, too."

"No hurry," Laurie said, tipping her head to one side. "We don't have to..."

"Yes, we do," Andi insisted, and Brad laughed again, losing its nervous edge. "Look, I've been thinking about this for months. Longer, if you want to be honest. I'm freaking ready. Brad's never going to make a move; that's not who he is. That's my job. So I'm making it. Come on, already." She slung first one leg over Brad's hips, then the other, straddling him, taking his head in her hands and kissing him again.

"That's my Andi," Laurie murmured, smiling fondly, but Andi was completely lost in the sensation of Brad's wide, expressive hands on her back, of his masculine smell. She ran her fingers down his chest, to his stomach, and into the crease of his jeans, and found him hard and pressing into her leg.

"God," he said, urgently. "Andi -"

"Come to the bed," she said, stroking him, feeling him shudder, his hips twisting. She climbed down and led him by the hand to his own bed, tugging at his zipper and helping him out of his jeans. He lay, shy and smiling, on the bed, waiting for her lead, and welcoming her into his embrace as she shimmied out of her own shorts and panties. She waved the box of condoms at him, ripping one open.

"It's been a long time since I used... well, sperm, in my sex," Andi said, and Brad laughed, shaking his head.

"There's nobody like you, Andi," he said, gazing at her with frank affection. His eyes met Laurie's over her head, and he said, in wonder, "Oh."

"What is it?" Andi said, lost in exploring the new terrain of Brad's body.

"I just - I'm not sure," he said, searching Laurie's eyes, and she nodded. "I think I understand how Laurie loves you, now. I mean, it's just how I love you, too."

Laurie came to the bed and knelt behind Andi, sandwiching her between their bodies. "Do you understand?" she said to Brad, her expression intense.

Andi felt Brad respond, and she rolled the condom on him. Before he could do more than gasp, she positioned herself over him, and she and Laurie brought their collective weight down. The groan that came from all three mouths was entirely mutual.

"Oh," Brad said, his eyes flying open. "You're - oh my god, Andi, you feel -"

Andi knew just what he meant, but she was too wrapped up in the sensation of Laurie grinding against her from behind, reaching around to stroke Andi's clit with her skillful hand. "That's  _just_  right," she gasped, trying to keep the motion of her hips against Brad steady. It wasn't easy, but she could tell it didn't matter too much, that he wouldn't last long.  _Me, neither,_  she said, climbing from plateau to plateau inside, feeling the tension building.

"Tell me," Laurie prompted, and Andi heard the tension in her voice. "Please."

"God, Laurie," Brad said, sounding overwhelmed. "I don't know if Andi -"

"For fuck's sake, Brad, tell her," Andi groaned.

"I love you," he whispered. Laurie made a sound, like a whimper, bright and shy, and suddenly Andi felt her girlfriend come apart behind her, pressing hard against Andi and Brad.

"You really do," she cried, and Andi was caught in their collective embrace, trapped between them as they touched and kissed and exclaimed this new discovery. Andi thought she'd never felt more love than she did at that moment, watching them love each other.

"It's okay?" he said, straining into Andi, and she quelled his anxiety with a kiss.

"Of course," she said, "I love her too. We can do this together."

He nodded, and she touched his cheek, finding it wet. "I want that," he said. "This is... just right." He turned his head to the side, kissing Laurie and gathering her close to them.

They rocked together, and when Brad cried out, neither one could later remember whose name was on his lips. It didn't matter one bit.


	7. 19 years - Lima, OH

1997 - 19 years - Lima, OH

Toby didn’t want to be nervous, but meeting your secret boyfriend’s family for the first time in ten years was more than a little jitter-inducing. And Toby could tell, from the way he was cursing at the intermittent stop-and-go traffic, that Will was feeling the same way. Toby was just glad that their classes got out later than Terri’s had; she’d hitched a ride back to Lima with a friend, and Andi and Laurie were riding with Brad. At least he and Will had the car to themselves. It wasn’t much, but the opportunity to share the same space in silence for a few hours was good where Toby was concerned.

They held hands for the better part of the drive, and the darker it got and the closer they got to Lima, the closer Toby shifted towards Will and the quieter Will got.

“You okay, darlin’?” Toby looked past Will, at the cars heading west on the highway.

“I should probably prepare you for meeting my mother,” he said, turning on the windshield wipers against the grey November rain. “She’s... an experience.”

“What can I do to get her to like me?” Toby said, only half-joking. Will glanced at him, then back at the road. His face was grim.

“I don’t think that’s very likely,” he said. “She’s a... kind of judgmental.”

“Will, I’ve been dealin’ with judgement since I was in diapers. I think I can handle your mother.”

Will’s laugh was bleak. “I hope you’re right. I wasn’t sure about this to begin with, Toby, but... I guess we have to get it over with someday. I mean,” he amended, reaching for Toby’s hand again, “you’re important to me. I want her to know that.”

“But we’re going in as friends, right? I know you’re not ready to be out to your family.” Toby caught his breath, and let it out when Will’s soft, predictable reply echoed in the dark of the car.

“I’m not gay.”

“Will . . .” Toby was gentle. There was never going to be a solution there. “I just need to know what is and isn’t okay for this trip.” He shook his head. “I mean, even if we weren’t . . . “

“Weren’t what, Toby?” Will’s voice was dangerous.

Toby let out a sharp laugh. “Fucking, Will. Even if we weren’t fucking,” he let his voice go deep and rough, “I still wouldn’t be able to stop looking at you.”

Will fumbled for the gear shift and popped the car into neutral, swearing as the engine revved high. “Christ, Toby, don’t do that to me while I’m driving!” he cried, almost hysterical. With an angry grinding sound, he jammed the car back into gear. “That? Not okay for this trip.”

Toby leaned back against the seat with a sigh. “Understood. No touching, no looking. And definitely no fucking.”

Will’s mouth twitched, and his eyes flickered to Toby’s knee. “Well. I didn’t say that.” He tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile at Toby’s sound of disbelief. “My parents are heavy sleepers.”

Toby shook his head. “You are unbelievable,” he said. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Terri’s dorm room is one thing, but your parents’ house?”

Will’s eyebrows went up. “For that matter, how about the parking garage, huh? Or the men’s john at the club in Dayton? How did you feel about those?”

“But this is different. Your parents are welcoming me as a guest, and I don’t know how I feel about debauching their son in his childhood bedroom.” But it was more than that; Toby was long gone from Goose Creek, but some of his parents’ and churches’ lessons were hard to get rid of.

Will sighed. “I don’t want to fight about this, okay? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He poked Toby’s knee, closer than ever to his own. “Debauching. Jeez.”

Toby just moved closer and let the remainder of the miles rush past, content in his closeness to Will. He had a feeling that these moments were going to be the last peaceful ones of the whole weekend.

The minute Will pulled the car up in front of the house, the peace was shattered; the cracked asphalt driveway held a muted silvery sedan and a station wagon that was a newer model than what Will was driving. Toby hadn’t gotten a foot out of the car before the front door flew open and Terri tumbled out onto the small front porch, Will’s mother at her heels.

“Will!” Terri was bouncing and waving at Will, even as she threw a stony look Toby’s way.

Will shot Terri a tired, patient smile. “Hey, Ter,” he waved. “Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Will,” she exclaimed, with annoyance, “I thought I told you to wear the olive sweater. This one completely clashes with the dress I’m going to wear tonight.” She looked Toby up and down. “At least he has some taste.”

“Hi, Terri,” Toby said sweetly, with a smile and a little finger wave. She ignored him.

“Your mother seems to think she’s going to direct our activities this afternoon,” she said, through gritted teeth.

Will just ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “She hasn’t seen me since August, Ter. Give her some slack. Please.”

His mother sighed from somewhere behind them. “Thanksgiving is a family holiday, Terri.”

Terri didn’t look anywhere but at Will. “I am family. If Toby,” she shifted her angry glaze briefly in his direction, “is family enough to stay here, then I’m family enough to get some say in what we do this afternoon.”

“Don’t forget Brad and Andi and Laurie,” said Toby airily. “They’re on their way; I invited them for my famous pecan pie. They can be family, too, right?”

Will stared helplessly at Toby, while Terri stormed off to the house. “What was that for?” he hissed at Toby, who shrugged and waved him off.

“She’s just being pissy,” he said. “Trust me, it’ll be better this way, with them here. Like a buffer.” Toby grabbed his bag from the back seat, and headed up the walk and into the house.

It was bigger than his home in Goose Creek, but not by much. Even so, everything was neat and clean and exactly what Toby had expected. He was especially tickled by the “Gallery of Will” snaking its way, from newborn to high school, up the wall by the stairs. He lingered over the pictures, and thought that the Will on that wall was nothing like his Will, but that didn’t make the pictures any less important. All of it, the pictures, the house, Will’s mother, was a part of him, and they were all pieces of things that would only help Toby learn more about Will.

Will showed him to the guest room, and then crossed the hall to his own room. Toby busied himself with unpacking his overnight bag over the muted noise of Terri railing about something in the kitchen. He was just finishing up when Will knocked softly on the door frame.

“I don’t want to abandon you with my parents right away, but I think maybe it’s best if I get Terri out of the house for a little while.” He looked sheepish, like he’d failed at something.

Toby nodded gently. “That might be for the best. I know she and I will likely strangle each other. But Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Terri and your mama don’t seem to like each other very much.” He saw something defiant flash across Will’s eyes before it gave way to openness.

“No, they don’t. They’re both too . . . strong . . . to get along really well.” Will looked down at his shoes. “Besides, I think my mom is still convinced that Terri is using me for my popularity.”

“But-” Toby began. Will put up a hand to stop him.

“I know. You and I both know I was never popular. Even dating Terri didn’t help. But my mother doesn’t understand that, so I just let her go on believing that I was McKinley’s golden boy.” Will shrugged in a what are you gonna do? gesture. “So, yeah. I think I’m going to take Terri for coffee. Will you be okay?”

Toby nodded. “I think I’m gonna see if your mama needs any help. Or maybe,” he grinned at Will, “I’ll make my pie.” He let the word dribble off his tongue, slow like molasses, in the way that turned Will to Jell-O. He waited a second, and watched as Will slid down against the door. Toby thought his smile looked a little forced, and he could hear a faint groan float across the distance between them. Sweet, Toby thought, with relish. Score one for me.

Toby knew from his childhood that you could tell a lot about a person, and their family, by their kitchen. Will’s mother kept hers clean, but not pristine. It was a kitchen that was used and loved, and he felt a little funny intruding. Will’s mom was at the stove, her back to the door.

“Mrs. Schuester?” She turned, a wooden spoon in her hand.

“Yes. Toby.” Her eyes were cautious, passing over his slender frame, on the edge of judgemental.

He kept his voice as gentle and unassuming as possible. “I wanted to offer to help in any way I could,” he said, smiling disarmingly. “At my house, my grandma and me, we would be makin’ her pecan pie ‘right about now. I thought, maybe, it might be a good addition to the table, if that’s not presumin’ too much.”

Her face relaxed a fraction, and she smiled at him in a reserved way that was so much like Will. “That would be lovely. I love pie, especially pecan, but I’ve stuck with cakes all these years since my mother passed.” She shook her head. “I just can’t get the pie crust right. She always used lard.”

Toby moved slowly over to the table. “No need for lard. Just enough fat, and really cold water. And,” he looked at her and let his eyes twinkle, “the secret ingredient.”

“Which is?” She set her spoon back into the pot of potatoes and watched him, less wary now.

“Lemon juice. Any acid will do, really, but I like lemon juice because it smells better than vinegar.” He wrinkled his nose, and got an actual smile in response.

“Would it bother you if I . . . ?” her voice trailed off, but he followed her gaze to the tabletop.

“Would you like to watch?”

“Yes. Please?”

Toby nodded. “I’ve missed havin’ my grandma to bake with.” He busied himself with the the flour canister, being careful not to get it all over the table as he measured swiftly into a plastic mixing bowl.

“Is she . . . gone?” Mrs. Schuester moved over to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade.

“No, ma’am.” Toby wasn’t sure what, if anything, Will had told his parents about his lack of a home situation. “I mean, she might be, now. I ain’t lived with my family in a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Butter?” he said, not looking at her. Mrs. Schuester pulled a pound out of the fridge and held it up.

“How much?”

“Half a stick for half the dough. Unless we’re making more than one pie?” He reached his hand out for the stick she held out.

She shook her head. “No. I’m planning a pineapple upside down cake, too, and it’s only the four of us for dinner. It’s Will’s favorite.” She smiled, and Toby could almost see the image of Will, like a beacon in her head. “Will said that Brad and his... friends might come for dessert?”

Toby nodded as he cut the butter into tiny squares. “I’ll call them later and find out for sure, but that should still be plenty.” He looked over at her again. “Do you have Crisco?”

“Yes. I use it for my fried chicken.”

Toby sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before whispering his reply. “So did my mama.”

“If you’d like,” Mrs. Schuester’s voice was gentle, “I could make some, on Saturday. And then you could take some leftovers back to school.”

Toby blinked back unexpected tears. “Thank you, Ma’am. I’d like that.”

“Call me Deborah, dear.” Her kindness settled over Toby, but he still smiled sadly and shook his head.

“I’ll try, but it’s not so easy to take the Kentucky outta this boy. My mama raised me right. Ma’am.” He scooped two tablespoons of Crisco on top of the butter, and stuck his hands into the mixing bowl. Will’s mom frowned at him, and offered up her pastry cutter, but Toby shook his head. “My grandma always told me that God gave her hands for a reason.”

Will’s mother regarded Toby with speculative eyes. “You know, you’re not what I expected, Toby.”

Toby looked at her sideways as he rubbed the butter and shortening into the flour, sugar, and salt. “Pardon me, ma’am, but what did you expect?”

“Well. You’re, um . . . I thought you were . . .”

“A homosexual?” He watched her eyes carefully, but she only looked away for a moment before nodding and returning his gaze. He nodded, too. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Is that why you don’t see your family?” Toby held back his startled expression. Will had told him lots of things about his mother; Toby had been expecting the domineering, controlling woman he’d heard so much about, not this reserved but still friendly woman who was watching him make pie dough.

“Partly.” Toby shook his head at the memory. “I didn’t have a lot of fans as a kid. Goose Creek, Kentucky is a damn sight smaller than Lima, Ohio. Good people, but they don’t hold much for difference.”

Now her eyes were pained. “You... they hurt you?”

“I had a few too many encounters with fists and boots, and too little bravery, for my daddy’s likin’. And then he and mama -- well, let’s just leave it that it was easier and safer for me to move on than to make everyone else change for me.”

Deborah’s eyes were wide. “Where did you go?”

Toby rinsed his hands in the sink and filled a measuring cup with the coldest tap water he could get. He crossed to the freezer and tossed a handful of ice cubes into the cup, and then paused for a moment.

“Lemon juice is in the fridge, Toby.” Deborah’s voice cut through the silence and his own echoing thoughts.

“Thank you.” He moved back to the table and added a tablespoon of juice to the bowl. He dripped the cold water slowly with his left hand, and worked the dough with his right. “I went down to Louisville, lived in a shelter there. When I was old enough, I got my GED, and some work with the opera company there, and a regional ballet company. I have a scholarship, for school. I get on fine.” He poked at the dough, judged it ready, and glanced around the kitchen. “Plastic wrap? And a rolling pin?”

Deborah nodded, and busied herself opening drawers and cupboards. When she turned back to him, her arms were full with the roll of plastic wrap, a heavy wood rolling pin, and a cobalt blue glass pie plate.

Toby ran his finger lightly over the fluted edge of the plate. “It’s beautiful.”

Deborah nodded. “It was my mother’s.” She set it down and put her hand on his arm. Toby looked at her, startled, and waited while she collected her thoughts. It was like watching Will, and it was hard not to be moved by their similarities.

“You two... you and Will. You’ve been friends a long time now.”

Toby nodded. “Since those days at music camp. Almost ten years, now.”

“Will’s not... well, he’s not...?” She looked up at him, clearly afraid of his answer. Toby made himself smile and shook his head.

“He’s gonna marry Terri someday, you just wait.” Toby held his breath a moment, hoping that Deborah didn’t catch his deflection.

“Oh. Honestly, I’m not sure what would be worse.” She let her hand fall to the table and shook her head. “That girl, she’s nothing close to good enough for Will. And the way she walks all over him --”

Toby swallowed back a laugh, because really? Deborah wasn’t one to talk about walking all over people, but Toby knew how to be a good house guest so he just worked on settling the pie dough in between two layers of plastic wrap and rolling it out to fit the pie plate. He was just about to peel the plastic off and flip the dough into the plate when the back door opened and Will pushed into the quiet of the kitchen. His eyes were wide and color was high in his cheeks. Toby could almost feel him shaking through the distance.

Toby kept on, losing himself for a moment in the motions of trimming the edges and rolling them under. If he really focused, he could almost feel his grandmother’s hands ghosting over his, her soft voice in his six year old ear. For a neat edge, roll the dough under in one direction and flute it in the other.

Toby supposed it was all about dominance. His grandmother was left handed, and the first time Toby tried rolling counterclockwise and fluting clockwise, his crust crumbled and broke. He hadn’t made a pie in years, but rolling clockwise and fluting counterclockwise settled him. He felt Deborah’s eyes on his hands, taking in his practiced movements with a small sigh of contentment. He could feel other eyes, too. Will’s, burning into him, all full of heat and the unexpected surprise of Toby’s grace taking unseen forms. Toby let the heat wash over him, pushed the pie plate into the middle of the table, and straightened. He wiped his hands on the dish towel Deborah had given him, and smiled.

“What next?” Deborah asked, her voice rich with what Toby thought might be envy.

“Next? Well...” Toby rubbed his hands together and turned to Will, fixing him with his own heated glance and said, “We made the crust... now we have to fill her up.”

***  
Andi and Laurie climbed out of the car and immediately descended on Will with hugs. “Is she here?” Laurie wanted to know. “Is she being awful?”

“Who?” Will asked.

Andi gave him a look. “Your horrible girlfriend, Will. Are she and Toby killing each other yet?”

“No -- I mean, she’s here, and -- jeez, Andi.” He tried to look hurt, but of course, she was right. “They’ve been very civil to each other,” he added. He didn’t mention they hadn’t been in the same room together for more than five minutes.

“Where’s Toby? I brought him a copy of the DVD of A Chorus Line. Can you believe he’s never seen it?” Laurie linked arms with him as they walked up to the porch.

“He and my mom are making a pie.”

“And how’s that going?” Brad’s voice drifted from behind them on the stairs.

Will turned and laughed. “Your ability to move as silently as your voice astounds me. And it’s, um, not what I expected.”

Brad got closer, and rested a hand on Laurie’s shoulder as Will opened the door. “From Toby, or from your mom?”

“Either one,” Will admitted, stepping through to the foyer. He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “I think she likes him.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Andi piped up from inside of the fleece she was pulling off over her head.

“Will? What’s going on out there?” Terri’s caustic voice wafted in from the family room, and Will sighed in defeat. Laurie held up her hand.

“Let me see what I can do for her,” she murmured, grinning. “You guys stay here.” She ducked into the family room, and they could hear Laurie’s placating alto tempering Terri’s shrill soprano.

“She’s an angel,” Will said, rubbing his forehead, making Andi laugh. “I just spent thirty minutes listening to her tell me why cheer pyramids can only be three stories high, not four, not two... it was agony, I have to admit.”

“So what’s wrong with your mom liking Toby, again?” Brad wanted to know.

Will glanced at the kitchen door, as though something horrible was going to come bursting out at any moment, but there was silence. “My mother will inevitably say something embarrassingly awful to him,” he said. “And if he thinks she’s... nice, he’s going to let his guard down.” He shook his head, leaning heavily against the wall. “Toby -- I don’t quite know how, but he seems to think the best of people. Even horrible people.”

“Is she really that horrible?” Brad’s smile was generous. “She never struck me as all that bad.”

Andi looked at him like he was a creature from another planet. “You’re an idiot, Brad. She’s demon spawn. Just like Terri. Will, you know it’s true.”

“Thanks,” said Will, and this time he did look hurt. “My mother has no idea what to do with someone like Toby.”

“Apparently, she makes pie with them,” Toby said, stepping through the kitchen door. He looked calm and cheerful, and was holding a plate of dinner samples. “And tells all kinds of stories about her son when he was a boy. The dirt, Will, the dirt...”

Andi cackled and pushed Will into the kitchen, placing a finger on his jaw to shut his mouth, which was hanging open. “Aaaand we’ll be in here with the demon spawn.”

***

Toby cleared his throat as he made his way down the basement stairs. “Mr. Schuester?”

“Yeah.” Will’s dad’s voice was gentle. Toby didn’t remember much about him from the few times he’d seen Will’s parents at camp, aside from the fact that he seemed quiet, and his eyes were kind.

“Mrs.- Deborah - fixed a plate for you. She said you might like to sample the cookin’.”

Toby hit the bottom of the stairs and pulled up short. One full wall of the room was a mass of radios and parts. Will’s dad was sitting in a rolling office chair in front of some kind of walkie talkie or microphone. Toby could hear scratchy, staticky voices in the air. “Sorry, sir, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

“Call me Barry, son, and a plate of Deborah’s cooking is no interruption.” He gestured for Toby to come closer. “You’re Will’s friend, from camp. He said you were coming this year.”

“Yessir.” Toby’s only real experience with dads had been his own, and he thought that maybe his experiences weren’t the best. Even so, it took him a few moments to relax. He waited while Barry took a fork of stuffing, and then a fork of potato, before posing the question that was rolling in his head. “What’s all this?”

“You’ve never seen a ham radio?”

Toby shook his head. “No sir. My daddy was more the huntin’ and sports type.” He could feel Barry’s eyes on him, taking him in and formulating thoughts.

“You don’t strike me as either of those things. Like my Will.” He shook his head softly. “Deborah, she wanted him in football and all, but he never took to it. But his voice, well. Of course, once it was clear where his talent lay, Deborah . . ..” He let out a soft sigh. “She just wants the best for him, I know that.”

Toby spoke without really thinking. “Will’s a good man. A good friend. He’s doin’ jus’ fine.”

Barry set his now-empty plate down and turned his gentle eyes to Toby. There was a fierceness behind them, protective and bright. “But is he happy?”

“I think . . .,” Toby paused to gather himself. “I think he’s learnin’. Sometimes it takes a while, to find your happiness.”

“Will . . . he’s, um, happy, with you. Isn’t he?”

Toby swallowed into the silence. “I think you’d have to ask Will about that.”

Barry sighed. “Will doesn’t like to talk about things like that. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“I can’t answer for Will, sir.” I won’t; I don’t believe in outing, and I’d never do that to Will.

Barry looked at Toby like he didn’t believe a word of his deflection. “How about for yourself? Have you found your happiness yet?”

Toby fixed Barry with a crooked smile. “I’m still searchin’, too, but I get closer all the time.”

Barry held up a hand, clicked a few buttons, and spoke into the radio. More crackly voices echoed back. Barry nodded at Toby, and slid a metal folding chair out from against the wall behind him. “Pull up a chair, son. Got some friends who’d like to meet the boy who makes my son so happy. Let me teach you about these radios, here.”


	8. 25-29 years, Denver, Columbus, Lima

**2003 - 25 years - Denver, CO**

Toby was exhausted. The craziness of his own dress rehearsals for  _Oklahoma!_ at the Arvada Center, coupled with tech week for the fall dance concert at the Denver School of the Arts where he taught, had him burning his candle too far, too fast. All he really wanted from his rare Friday night off was a decent meal, a glass of wine, and ten hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Then he pulled up in front of his house and bit back a smile. Will was sitting on his front step, a familiar green fleece jacket protecting him from the slight early October chill and a small duffel bag at his feet.

So much for the sleep. But maybe he'd still get his dinner and glass of wine.

Toby gathered his attache and his dance bag from the passenger seat and all but ran up the front walk.

"Will, darlin', why didn't you call? I could have come out to the airport."

Will met him on the second step with a soft kiss. "It was kind of impromptu. I had to see you."

Toby really looked then, and saw that Will's eyes were slightly sad. "What's wrong?"

Will shook his head. "Not yet. Please. Let's . . . let's go inside, so I can kiss you properly."

 _Proper_  wasn't what happened once Toby had closed the door behind them and dropped his bags in the corner. Toby really hadn't even caught his breath around the idea of Will being there before Will had him pressed against the door; his hands relentless and his mouth on the edge of violent. Toby pulled away enough to gasp out  _bedroom_ , even as Will's strong hand pressed full against Toby's erection through the thick cotton of his khakis. But Will either couldn't or didn't want to hear him.

"Will. Darlin'." Toby managed to plant both hands against Will's chest and pushed gently. The motion seemed to snap Will out of the worst of his drive, and when he looked at Toby his eyes were dark.

"God, Toby, I need you. Please." His breath was ragged with desire.

"You have me, Will. Always. Just . . . " he laughed roughly. "Just not in the foyer, okay? It'll be better in the bedroom. C'mon." He held out his hand, and led Will through the living room and kitchen, and up the short hall to his room, shedding clothes as he went. Will followed his lead, and by the time Will was pushing him down into the mattress, they were both naked.

Toby tried to slow Will down with long kisses and gentle touches, but Will was having none of it. His mouth was swollen and hot, and his teeth insistent as he marked a path down Toby's neck and chest, and his hands were nothing but rough and fast and so damned insistent, he left Toby breathless. At some point, Toby gave up the ghost and surrendered to whatever devil Will was trying to get rid of.

Toby had gotten used to Will, over the years; so much about him was predictable. Which was why  _this_  Will was such a shock. Will was very rarely the aggressor, and when he was, it was a signal that there was really someone else joining them in bed.  _Terri._

Toby held on to that thread of thought as Will's fingers worked him open, felt it fade when Will pushed into him, hard and  _oh so good_ , and lost it completely when he started pushing back, meeting Will hard, angry thrust for hard, angry thrust.

Toby hated himself, sometimes, for liking it when Will was like that, when the sex was forceful and a little painful and tinged with something so bitter. That kind of sex was always a reminder that Will was never going to be fully his, but it always made Toby come so hard he felt like he was breaking.

And it always made him cry.

Later, after he'd sucked Will off in the shower and they were lazy with wine in the kitchen, waiting for the pizza to arrive, he tried to get Will to talk about it, but Will just shook his head.

"Not now, Toby. I just want this night." Toby knew in his gut that whatever was coming was no kind of good, but he agreed anyway. They fell into bed after dinner, and the second time between them was tender and slightly sad. That time, Will was the one who cried.

When Toby woke at the pale edge of dawn, better than 6 hours before he usually did, the bed was empty. Toby listened for a moment, but knew before he even rolled over that Will was gone.

In his place, on the right side of the bed that Toby always, always stayed away from, was an overstuffed envelope, elegant thick cream paper with  _Mr. Tobias Grey_  in black script on the front.

A fucking wedding invitation, and it was resting on top of that old green fleece that Toby had handed off to Brad, all those years ago, in the Green Room of a dusty theater in Cincinnati. That fleece that Will had worn, and protected, and used to keep close to Toby.

Toby rolled back against his pillow and spoke into the oppressive silence. "Goodbye, Will."

* * *

 **2004 - 26 years - Columbus, OH**

Toby was anxious the morning of the wedding, pacing his hotel room in an effort to rid himself of the knot in his stomach. He couldn't help feeling like he was making a terrible mistake, being there, like he was dragging out the inevitable. But he'd promised both Will and Brad that he'd be there, and Brad had somehow convinced him that singing a song at the reception would be a great gift for Will and Terri. Toby wasn't sure about that at all, but he'd been startlingly incapable of fighting with Brad about it. So there he was, breathing the dry heat from the radiator at the Holiday Inn in Columbus, half-dressed in his best charcoal gray dress pants and a white shirt that cost more than he'd normally spend. His suit jacket was draped over the back of the armchair, and he was jangling his silver cuff links in his hand. He didn't even want to think about putting his tie on yet; he was having enough trouble breathing as it was.

Every step sent echoes through his brain:  _mistake, mistake, mistake_. But he had to be there. His song was going to be more than his gift to Will and Terri; it was going to be his goodbye.

Toby procrastinated as long as possible, and was just shrugging into his suit jacket when Andi and Laurie knocked on his door.

"Hey, baby, you ready?" Toby pulled the door open at Laurie's gentle words, and shook his head.

"No, but I don't have a choice, do I?" The girls both clucked over him, and Andi offered up a low whistle as she took in his suit.

As they walked down the hall to the parking lot, Andi slipped her hand into his. "Will's going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off of you."

Toby just sighed. "It's not going to change anything."

He was silent the rest of the way to the church.

* * *

The ceremony was brief, which Toby was thankful for. He'd always been antsy in church from the time he was a kid, and he felt sort of justified being jittery. It was his lover's wedding, after all. Will looked nervous and handsome and younger than Toby remembered; Terri was oddly lovely. Toby had never been a fan of Terri's, and he knew the feeling was mutual, but he had to admit that the emotion of her wedding day had left her softer and more accessible.

He followed Andi and Laurie through the receiving line, offering up a hug for Brad, who was standing in his Best Man's position between Will and Terri's sister Kendra. He felt awkward when he stood in front of Will. They hadn't seen each other since what Toby considered Will's farewell visit back in October, but it was like no time had passed at all when Will pulled Toby into a tight hug and whispered in his ear. "Thank you for coming."

Toby just breathed in Will's scent, committed it to memory, and whispered congratulations into the lapel of Will's tux.

* * *

In the sort of vacant time between the passing of hors d'oeurves, the arrival of the wedding party, and the serving of the first course, Brad snagged Toby and installed him in front of the band at the microphone.

Toby smiled out at the gathered crowd with false confidence and endearment. "Will and I, we've been the closest thing to best friends from the moment we met, back when we were nine years old." He swallowed around the lump in his throat and forged ahead. "I couldn't be happier that he's finally settling down. Best wishes to you both." He smiled at the head table, where Terri was clutching at Will's hand and growling something at him under her breath. Will looked tired. Brad was nodding in silent approval. Toby took a last breath as the music started behind him, the opening strains of "Lady in Red." Toby nodded at Will. "I love you, old friend."

And then he sang, soft and sweet. Toby knew he'd never be able to compete with Will in the vocal department, but training over the years had taught him how to manipulate his voice to best play to the audience. And his audience tonight was only Will.

The song was an old memory, a good one, and that's what Toby thought about. Three little boys around a summer piano, being praised for the very things that had always left them just outside of everyone else. Toby scanned the room, winked at Laurie and Andi before letting his gaze drift back to the head table. Brad had his eyes closed, deep in the memory himself. Terri was still clutching at Will's hand, and the growling had softened to what looked like hissing. And Will. Oh, Will. His eyes were wide and bright with unshed tears. The half-smile on his face was the saddest thing Toby had ever seen.

He finished to mild applause and a nod from Will, who had understood every word. It felt to Toby in that moment like he had just lost the best piece of himself.

* * *

Toby always thought that formal dinners were a nuisance, more of a time suck on the road to drinking and dancing than anything else. He remained proper and buttoned up through the salad, the soup, the main course, and the cheese plate. But in the void before the cake-cutting and dessert, he'd had enough. He was a little warm from his champagne buzz, so he hung his jacket and tie over the back of his chair, stuffed his cuff links into his pocket, and rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbows. At Andi's smile, he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, and she faked at fanning herself before cocking her head to where Will was talking with some guests, people Toby thought might be teachers at Will's school. Will was staring at Toby, color high in his cheeks, pupils dark.

"'Scuse me, ladies," he said as he moved behind Andi and Laurie. "I'll be back."

He made a beeline for the men's room, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was blissfully empty. He was washing his hands when the door snicked open, and Will was there, sidling up behind him and wrapping his warm hands around Toby's waist. Toby could see red marks on the back of Will's left hand.

"I got you in trouble with Terri." He didn't even need to ask.

Will shook his head. "It wasn't you. Not really. You know Terri." Toby did. Toby knew that Terri hated him, but he had never been completely sure why. In the end, he had come to the conclusion that while Terri liked to control every aspect of Will's life, the fact that she couldn't control his friendship with Toby rankled more than anything relating to Toby's sexuality. That understanding still didn't make any of it easier, though.

Toby braced his hands on the edge of the sink as Will touched his lips to the base of Toby's neck. "Darlin', no. We can't."

"Please, Toby. God, you look amazing. And your song. Thank you so much." Toby sniffled a little at the tickle of Will's breath on his neck.

"You said your goodbye months ago. That was mine." Toby couldn't help but let anger seep into his words.

"I know." Will's voice was gentle, but his hands were insistent against Toby's hips. Toby finally gave in, and let Will turn him so they were facing. "Toby." Will's voice was low with want, his body comfort in a way that came with long memory.

Toby sunk back further against the sink, trying to get a little air and a little clarity. "I'll always love you, Will. But I can't. Not now, and especially not here."

"I'm not giving you a choice," Will growled before leaning in and grabbing Toby, pressing flush against him and kissing him, hard. Toby wanted to fight, but he had known for years that fighting Will was worthless. In the end, giving in was his only option.

Will clearly had other things in mind, but Toby couldn't taste anything in the kiss beyond the bittersweet tinge of regret. He pulled away briefly and cupped Will's head with his hand. "Are you sorry you married Terri?"

Will shook his head. "No. I just wish I could have you, too."

"But you can't. So we have to deal with it." Toby tried to duck out of the tight circle of Will's arms, but he was trapped. "Dammit, Will. Let. Me. Go."

"No. We need to finish this."

"Finish wh-?" Toby's words were swallowed by Will's mouth, hot and demanding, on his, down his neck and into the hollow at the base of his throat. "Oh, god,  _darlin_ '. Wait."

"No. No time for waiting." Will's hands were forward, fumbling with the buckle on Toby's belt. Toby pushed him off, and ignored the screaming in his head as he undid his buckle, button, and zipper. Will's mouth was warm and hot against Toby's reluctant erection. Toby couldn't help himself; he bucked his hips slightly, relishing the delicious feeling of pressure. He was just about to shimmy his pants down to his knees when he heard anxious footsteps in the hall outside.

"Will.  _Will_. Stop!" The last thing they needed was to get caught by a wedding guest.

"God, Toby, will you shut up? Just let me . . ." Will's hand was snaking under the waistband of Toby's boxer briefs when the door edged open to the sound of Brad's voice.

"Jesus, guys." Will straightened up, and Toby turned to tuck himself back together. "What the hell?  _Will._  Your  _wife_  is looking for you."

Toby turned back to stare into Brad's disapproving eyes. "I didn't- I wasn't-"

Brad just shook his head. "You clearly didn't try hard enough. You." He leveled his gaze at Will. "You're married now. You can't keep doing this with Toby, or to him. You've made your choice, and now you have to live with it. And if you want to keep going with Toby, you need to tell Terri. Because cheating? Not okay."

Toby ran a hand over his face before turning to Will. "We're done. We've been done for a long time." He pushed past Brad, out the door and into the fluorescent light of the hall. He had known, from the moment he first realized he was in love, that Will was never going to be his. He just hated himself for taking so many years to realize it.

He paused, and steeled himself at the doors to the reception. A few more hours of putting on a show face, and then he'd be able to go home and pick up his shattered heart in private.

* * *

 **March 2007 - 29 years, Lima, OH**

"Will!" Brad's excited voice on the phone was a little out of breath. "She's in labor. I won't be coming in today." Toby watched him clench and unclench his fists, the way he did when he was nervous. "Yeah, I've already called Figgins. Knowing Laurie and the way she deals with stress, the labor's bound to go on and on, but we'll just have to see. She's doing okay. Andi took a few days off from work and she's with her now at the hospital. I'm just heading over now.

"Duncan's staying at home with a friend," Brad added. He glanced at Toby, who was sitting with 5-month-old Duncan in his highchair, getting the pureed sweet potato into his mouth spoonful by spoonful. Luckily Duncan seemed to enjoy the taste, and Toby didn't have to persuade him too much to open up for each bite. Toby wasn't interested in making airplane noises or saying words that might be overheard by Will on the phone.

 _If it had been fewer than three years since they'd seen each other,_  Toby thought,  _I might consider going to visit him while I'm in town_. As it was, he listened to Brad's half of the conversation, filling in the rest with halfhearted, wistful memories of Will's voice. He wished Brad would put him on speakerphone just so he could hear him again, just once.

"Okay," Brad was saying. "Don't bother to tell Ryerson – he might feel obligated to come by the hospital, or something, and he just squicks Andi big time. Yeah. I love that you got me this accompanist job, man, but having to deal with Sandy is sometimes more work than anything else." Brad laughed at something Will said, and Toby smiled, reflexively. "Thanks, Will. I'll let her know. Yeah."

Brad hung up the phone and made three or four more passes through the kitchen, gathering things as he went and stuffing them into a canvas bag. "Her water bottle… the rice sock… tea that doesn't suck… all right. I think I have everything." He bent down and knelt beside Duncan, who reached for his face with a potato-smeared fist. "I love you, buddy. You be good for Uncle Toby."

"He's always good," Toby declared, smiling at Brad as he tickled Duncan's neck with his beard. "He's the best baby ever."

"You're a little biased, I think," Brad said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Pretty soon he'll have a sister. Then they're going to have to duke it out to see who can curry Toby's favor more effectively."

"Oh, it'll be the girl, no question," Toby said, wiping off Duncan's messy face and hands with a wet washcloth. "Girls have power over me. I'm putty in their hands."

"There's something strangely right about that," said Brad. "I'm going to head out. Call me or Andi on our cells if you guys need anything."

"We're gonna be fine, aren't we, darlin'?" Toby's voice made Duncan take notice, though it was probably the high pitch as much as any familiarity he had with the sound of Toby. Brad caught it, too, though, and he grinned.

"He knows you," he said, chucking Duncan under the chin.

"He's only met me a handful of times." Toby watched Duncan grabbing at Brad's face with amusement.

Brad shook his head. "No, I mean… I think he  _knows_  you." Brad's expression was steady and clear. Toby felt exposed under Brad's frank regard.

"That doesn't bother you, does it?" Toby asked softly.

"Why should it?" Brad said. He smiled at Duncan again, and the love in his eyes was obvious. "It doesn't matter who's the biological parent. I mean, it's too bad my little swimmers couldn't do the job, but… I'm his daddy. No two ways around it."

"You sure are," Toby agreed. He stroked Duncan's dark curls, just starting to grow in.

"Does it bother  _you?"_  Brad said. "Just being Uncle Toby?"

Toby let the question hang in the air a little too long, but in the end, he shook his head. "I don't want anything else," he said. "It's… all I can manage right now. Dance is my life. Anything more would change things too much."

"But?"

Toby shook his head again, looking fixedly at Duncan. "No buts. I'm just glad I get to do things like this, to help out every now and then."

"We really appreciate your flying out here for this," Brad said. "I know what this must be costing you."

Toby didn't think Brad meant the plane fare. "I can manage."

"You might give him a call," Brad suggested, but when Toby gave him a sharp, angry glance, Brad held up both hands and backed off. "Never mind. Just an idea."

"He made his choice when he married Terri," he said. He was proud that his voice remained steady.

Brad picked up the overnight bag and paused on his way to the door. "You can't imagine a world in which you could just be friends?"

"We'll never be able to  _just_  be friends," Toby said. "We never were, not even when we were boys. It was always more." He thought of how being around Will just blew away his need to keep something of himself hidden, because Will saw him all, every piece of him – and loved him, without reservation, without guile, with his whole heart and body. He hadn't ever found anyone else who loved him like that – not that he had looked all that hard. It was just easier to pretend it didn't matter and bury himself in his work.

"He still talks about you all the time," Brad said, and Toby's eyes closed involuntarily.

"I can't… Brad, please," Toby said. He let a little too much of his pain come out in his voice, and Brad sighed.

"I'm sorry, Toby, but you need to do something about this. You're not any more over him than you were two years ago. A year in London didn't change anything."

"Other than improving my technique," Toby said, shrugging. "The RAD teacher's course will make me more marketable, in case I feel like leaving Denver. Plus, it's good discipline."

Brad's expression was disappointed. "You're just hiding from him now. I mean, changing your number? He was pissed when he found that out."

"I don't much care what he thinks," Toby said, unbuckling Duncan from his chair and picking him up. He was so light in his arms.

"That's where you're wrong, old friend," Brad said. He leaned heavily on the wall and sighed. "You made a choice three years ago, and I told you to stick to it. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it'd be better for him to… to cheat, if it means you guys get to have… what you had, again."

"Brad," Toby said, his mouth dry. Brad shook his head.

"Terri's not good for him, Toby. She's poisoning him from the inside. I can see Will slowly crumbling into pieces, and I can't make him see it. I'd like to think I would stand by him and respect his choice to be married to her, but… dammit, Toby, there's  _nothing_  good about this. It's the worst of all possible situations. He needs you now, more than ever." His eyes were pleading.

"I'm sorry, Brad. I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear that." Toby clutched Duncan to him, holding him to his chest in one hand while the other wiped tears from his eyes. "I don't think I can help him here. God, I wish… I wish I could. I wish I could just make it all okay." He shook his head. "But I can't." He turned his whole body away from Brad and faced the kitchen. "Tell Laurie I said she can do it – hold off with that epidural as long as she can tolerate it. She's strong."

"I know," Brad said, sounding resigned. "She's the strongest of all of us."

"Andi did an admirable job with Duncan," Toby said loyally, and Brad snorted a laugh.

"Andi whined through the whole thing and refused to let anybody near her with a needle because she was more scared of that than she was of childbirth." He walked back around to stand before Toby, and put a kiss on Duncan's soft curls. "It's probably just as well the first couple IVFs didn't take with Laurie, because if they'd  _really_  been pregnant together the way they wanted, two labors in one month would have sent me off the deep end."

Toby couldn't help but laugh, too. "It was bad enough the months when they  _were_  pregnant together."

"Tell me about it," groaned Brad. "God.  _Two_  sets of feet to rub;  _two_  sore backs; one wife with morning sickness at the same time the other one was going crazy from horniness…"

"Poor baby," Toby said, patting Brad's head. "Sounds rough. Of course it's all about  _you."_

"Well, sure, I'm the selfish guy who can't get enough from one hot chick, right?" Brad's self-deprecation was mostly a joke, and Toby knew it. He thoroughly loved his situation, and he wasn't going to change it for the world.

"You're getting enough now, aren't you?" Toby shot him a wicked smile.

"Hey, there's still more little Tobys in storage," Brad said, with a gleam in his eye. "Who's to say we won't have two more someday? We're all young, right?"

"Jeez Louise." Toby paused in patting Duncan's back, amazed. "You can think about that, now, in the middle of Laurie's labor? I guess you  _must_  be happy."

"Yes, Toby," Brad agreed. "I'm very happy. I can't even tell you how happy… thanks to you." He put an arm around Duncan and the other around Toby, and hugged them tight. Duncan made wordless noises of cuteness.

"You wanted to be a dad almost more than Will did," Toby said into Brad's shirt. "I couldn't not help. I'm just glad it worked out."

"You've always been part of our family, Toby. This is just another point of connection." Brad grinned, stepping away. "You sure do make beautiful kids."

Toby had nothing to say to that. He opened the fridge and got out a bottle of breastmilk for Duncan as Brad headed for the door. "Hey, Toby?" Brad added. "If you change your mind, Will's number is posted on the fridge."

"Go meet your daughter, Bradley," he said severely.  _As though I'd ever forget it. As though it wasn't still on speed dial. As though I didn't try to call it a few times a month, and hang up before connecting._

The front door closed, and the house was quiet. "Gah," said Duncan.

"Yeah, baby," Toby sighed. "Gah is right."

* * *

Duncan took a while to put to sleep, but once he was out, it was like he was a sack of sand. Luckily, he was a sucker for dancing. Toby put him in the front carrier while he practiced the routines he was working up for his fifth hour seniors, and by the time he was done, Duncan was snoring, his little head lolling forward onto Toby's chest. Toby eased him out of the carrier and onto the bed.

"Pretty soon you'll be rollin' over, little man," he said, stroking his face. "Then crawlin', then walkin'... then your sister'll be doing the same." He chuckled. "Your parents are in for some busy times."

Toby glanced at his phone as the fifth text of the hour came through. "Speak of the devil," he murmured, with a thrill of excitement:  _Coraline Grey Ellis is here! Time of birth 8:24 pm, 6 lbs 11 oz, 19 inches - no tearing, no episiotomy, no meds. Andi is over the moon; Laurie is tired but happy. Congrats, Uncle Toby._

Toby found himself crying, and he couldn't rightly put his finger on why, but he was alone, and it didn't much matter anyway. Inexplicably, his thoughts went to Will. He wondered if he'd gotten a similar text, and if he would spot the significance of the middle name. He supposed that didn't much matter, either.

He folded himself into a ball and lay on the bed next to Duncan, with one hand on his back, feeling his shallow, quick breath, and let the tears fall.

* * *

It was nearly one in the morning when Andi and Brad stumbled in the front door, beaming through their exhaustion.

"You wouldn't believe Laurie," Andi boasted, rolling her eyes. "She actually  _got out of bed_  to get the kid out of the warmer. Said her body was a better warmer than a toaster any day. Just put her right on her chest and  _glared_  at that L&D nurse. Hah!" She gazed up at her husband. "You'd be an even better warmer, honey; you're like a fucking radiator. Too bad we couldn't grab you a bed next to her."

"Maybe I should rent myself out to the hospital," he mused, yawning. "Probably make more money doing that than teaching piano." His arms came around Toby and he hugged him tight.

"Happy birth day, Daddy," Toby said, grinning.

"You too, Uncle," Brad whispered. "She's beautiful. Wait till you see her."

"I'll go in in the morning, on the way to the airport," he assured him. "I have some presents to pass on to the proud mama." He hugged Andi next. "How's the other proud mama?"

"Fucking glad I didn't have to birth this one," Andi said with relish. "I get to play with the baby, with no postpartum depression and no stretch marks. I win." She giggled gleefully. "You should have  _seen_  the doctor's eyes pop out of his head when I took a turn nursing Cory. Blew his fucking mind."

"Dunc's sleeping in your bed," Toby said. "He was a perfect angel, of course."

"Thanks again for watching him, man." Brad yawned again. "God, I'm beat. I wish I could stay up and visit, but -"

"Don't worry your head on it," Toby said, smiling. "You're cooked. Go on to bed. I'll see myself out. We're on for Fourth of July?"

"You bet," Andi said. "The kids fly free until they're two. It'll be good to see you on your stomping grounds for a change. You'll take us to your school, right?"

"Sure thing, darlin', if you'll all agree to be guest speakers for my classes." Toby kissed them both, took one last peek at Duncan, and ducked out the door before they could convince him to stay for the night. He needed a glass of wine and some Rufus Wainwright on his iPod and time in the dark, blotting out Lima, without any reminders of why he so seldom came to visit Brad's family.

One AM was just the middle of his usual evening - he didn't generally get to sleep until four or later - and yet he felt tired. Not tired; fatigued. Like he'd done something exhausting. It certainly wasn't taking care of Duncan that had worn him out. No, it was more emotional than physical. Again he thought of Will, and that thought stayed with him while he checked in at the front desk of the Days Inn, got his key, carried his bag up the outside flight of stairs and sat in his empty room, unseeing, staring at the peeling wallpaper.

That is, until the hotel phone rang.

Toby picked it up before he thought about it. "Hello?"

The silence was brief, but it loomed before Toby, and for an instant, he wondered if he was being targeted, if this was meant to be a comment on his sexuality, but then - a strangled breath, and a word, in a voice all too familiar, even after three years of silence:  _"Toby."_

He couldn't even say his name. He felt that if he did, the dam would break, and he would be washed away in the torrent. Instead, he asked the question he was wondering. "How did you find out I was here?"

"Laurie doesn't have much of a filter right now," Will said, and it felt so conversational, so  _Will,_  that Toby just shook the incredulity out of his eyes, took a short, sharp breath, and smiled.

"I guess I ain't too surprised at that." Toby wondered where he was - he imagined at his house.  _But Terri?_  There were too many questions. While he hesitated, Will asked one of his own.

"Are you - have you been seeing anyone?"

"Darlin' -" He heard an intake of breath over the phone, and Toby winced at his instinctive use of the word. In that moment, he decided he'd better be honest, because if Will was here again, he needed the truth of what he had to say. "I'm seeing lots of people," he said.

"Oh," Will said. The pain and disappointment in that small, twisted voice cut into Toby, and he had to give him something.

"No one... like you," he said. It wasn't quite enough, but Will let out his breath, and Toby could hear him crying.

"Toby." It was a plea, a benediction. "Can I see you?"

"Oh, Will." He closed his eyes. The crying intensified, and Toby heard him trying to muffle it. "Blow your nose, darlin'."

"You, saying my name - that does things to me."

Toby sighed. "I've always  _done things_  to you, Will."

"No, I don't mean -" Will sighed, frustrated, and changed the subject. "I was there when Cory was born."

 _Really._  "How was it?" he said, keeping it light. He stood and twined the cord of the ancient phone in his hand, letting the cable wrap his fingers.

"Amazing," Will said. His voice shook. "I've never seen anything like it. Laurie was...  _so strong,_  Toby, she just went for it, even though it hurt. Even though it hurt so much. She didn't let it stop her from - from doing what needed to be done."

"She's a fighter," Toby said, smiling.

Toby listened to Will take a deep breath. "So, I decided, I shouldn't either."

"Shouldn't what?"

"Shouldn't let the pain stop me," Will whispered. Then, in a louder voice, "Toby, I need to see you. I  _need_  that. Please, let me come over. We don't have to - it doesn't have to -"

"Yeah," Toby said dryly. "It does. And we do. You know it, I know it, Will; let's not pretend that I don't want you as much as I did three years ago."

"You still... want me?" Will's voice had way too much hope in it now.

"What I want and what I can have, darlin'? Two different things. Ain't nothing changed between us."

"But - I'm different, Toby, I am. I've been... reading, and thinking. I've been journaling. My therapist told me -"

"You're in therapy, Will Schuester?" Toby couldn't help it. He laughed. "Well, ain't that a kick in the pants."

"I'm  _trying,"_ Will said, insistant. "You deserve - everything, Toby. I want to give you... everything."

Toby's laugh dried up, and he found himself speechless.

"I want to," he said again. "I don't know... if I can. But I want you to know, I'm working on it." He pictured Will, sitting at his desk, or at the kitchen table, leaning on his hand. "Please... let me in?"

"You're already in, Will," Toby whispered. "You never left."

"No, I mean - I'm outside your door. Let me in?"

Toby started, looked at the door. He stood, and was inexorably drawn to pause before it. With reluctance, he peered through the peephole.

 _Will._  He was worn, a little ragged, like he hadn't had enough sleep - but then, it was one in the morning. He had a day's worth of stubble, and the bags under his eyes could hold bowling balls. He was absolutely beautiful.

Toby stood on the shore of decision, knowing this was a choice, and that he got to make it. He couldn't see the future - he couldn't even see the next fifteen minutes. But he knew if he said no to Will now, he'd always regret it.  _I just can't be sure that I won't regret it if I say yes, too._

But then he was throwing the deadbolt, opening the door, and the hope and possibility in Will's face, it was,  _oh._ "Will," he said, the tears starting again. "Will."

"I'm here, baby," Will said, and he was, he was right there, holding Toby in his arms. His face was steady and strong. Toby let himself fall into the ocean of Will's embrace, and they pressed their lips together as Will slammed the door shut behind him.

Will's mouth was insistent, but it wasn't until they edged backward onto the hotel mattress that Toby found himself pinned down by Will's body, under him, with the full force of Will's anger and hurt and fear crashing down on him. He whimpered. "Will -"

" _Never_ do that again," Will hissed, holding Toby's gaze, making him dizzy with the force of his demand. "Never. Promise me. You won't run like that - not  _ever."_

"I promise," Toby said, as much in reflexive response to Will's tone as it was an answer. But then he shook his head, and he could breathe a little, and he said it again, with feeling to match Will's: "I promise. I'll never run from you again."

"Because this - what we have, Toby - this is  _not_  going away," Will said. He broke his gaze with Toby long enough to consider his mouth, his breath coming shallow and harsh through parted lips. "You and me - this is real."

This Will was different, Toby could see already, from the Will of three years past. He was older, more worldly. He was less patient. He knew what he wanted. Toby's breath caught at the intensity of his desire.  _He wants me like that,_  Toby thought, and he felt a great rolling wave of feeling catch him and toss him against the rocks.

"It's real," Toby said, futilely struggling against Will's hands, holding him down. "Darlin,' believe me, it's real."

"I'm not playing with you, Toby," Will said. "It's the most real thing I've ever had. I can't - I  _can't_  lose you again. Not like that."

Toby shook his head, back and forth, and that, too, became a promise, as he took Will's face in trembling, sweaty hands.  _How did that happen?_  he wondered.  _When did Will suddenly gain the power to reduce me to a blithering idiot?_  "I won't go anywhere," was all he could say.

The kiss started almost chaste, the promise of it, but quickly wandered off into gasping, panting lust. "Toby," Will said, leaning into the pressure of his hand. "I missed you  _so much."_

Toby ran his fingers through Will's curls, and mapped his face with a light touch, noting new wrinkles and laugh lines. His fingertips traced Will's right ear and found, to his astonishment, a tiny, subtle hoop earring in the tragus. "What -?"

Will's gaze was steady, oblique. "It's been a long three years," he said quietly.

"I want to hear all about it," Toby said. "All of it. Will - oh, god,  _Will."_  The last was in response to Will's teeth on his throat, biting just a little too hard, and he found himself right on the edge, his hips bucking off the bed, seeking contact with something, anything -

"I've learned things," Will said into his neck, running his hands over Toby's body, leaving traces of fire behind. "I've... done my homework." His hands lifted Toby's leg up, giving him access, and he pressed his hips up against the space between Toby's legs. Toby gasped Will's name.

"I've missed you saying that," said Will. His fingers were unzipping Toby's pants and easing them down, setting his cock free, and Will's newly confident hand was wrapped around him, touching him with sure, easy strokes. "I need you to say my name. Come on, baby, say it again."

"Will," Toby said, feeling his control slipping. "Will - god, Will, I'm coming -"

And Will,  _Will,_ who'd always shied away from the mess and slippery consequences of their teenage fumblings, smiled widely, watching Toby with clear pleasure and anticipation, and said, "Yeah, Toby, that's it - come for me."

And  _holy shit,_ did he ever.

Will waited on the bed beside him for Toby to recover his equilibrium. "I could use a sip of water," he croaked, and Will was instantly up and in the bathroom, pouring him a glass. He brought him a wet washcloth, too, and a dry towel. Toby laughed shakily, accepting the glass of water first.

"The earring," he insisted. "Will - tell me!"

Will's gaze roved over Toby's body as he wiped himself clean and took his pants all the way off, then pulled his shorts back up. "Toby," he said at last. "You've always been a - unique factor in my life. You know - what I've always said about that."

They could both hear the words ringing:  _I'm not gay._  Neither one needed to say them. Toby nodded and sipped his water.

"I had to find out," Will said. "If that was true. If I - was attracted to other men. If they did to me what you do, then... well, that would be one thing. And if I wasn't... that would be another."

Toby waited as long as he could, and finally said, "What did you learn?"

Will's mouth curved up in a faint, but definitely self-aware smile. He didn't say anything, but smoothed the hair behind his right ear.

"Will," Toby said, pained.

"There were... other men." His gaze went long, his thoughts far away. "And... I learned what I wanted was you. No matter who else I was attracted to."

"Terri?" Toby said, and saw Will wince.  _Ah._

"Don't get me wrong," he said. "I love her. I just - I love you more."

"It's never been a contest, Will," Toby said, even as his heart did a self-satisfied skip and leap. He couldn't keep the emotion off his face, apparently, because Will chuckled at him.

"You love it," he said, kissing Toby. He moaned approval as Toby touched the tragus piercing. "Nobody does it for me like you do. Nobody gets me so  _fucking_  turned on, I could - do all kinds of things." He shook his head. "But that's not what I'm talking about. Or, at least, it's just a small part of it."

"You love me," Toby said, tasting the words again, for the first time in a long while.

Will nodded soberly. "I remember meeting you in fourth grade, in the lobby of the residence hall at B-W that summer. I think - I think I loved you then."

Toby let that feeling wash over him, and he closed his eyes, rocked by it. Even before the sensation was over, he made himself ask, "What about your wife, Will?"

Will didn't answer. He stroked a hand down Toby's shirt, to his shorts, and rested it on Toby's crotch. Just that gentle pressure was enough to make him stir again. "God damn," he muttered.

"Yeah," Will agreed, with feeling. "How can we deny this, Toby?"

Toby kept his eyes closed, feeling the pulse in his groin, echoing off Will's hand. "Let me get this straight," he said, trying not to let his voice tremble. "You want to stay married to Terri."

Will nodded. "It's my agreement," he said. "I'm not going to break it."

"And - me, darlin'?"

"Weekends," he said. "As often as I can get away. I want to be with you. Wherever you are."

"I'm in Denver," Toby said, and bit his lip.  _Apparently, he'd already made up his mind._

"Okay," Will said, with a sweet smile, and a slow, deep breath of relief. "Denver. I like Denver."


	9. 2009 - 31 years old, Lima, OH

**2009 - 31 years old - Lima, OH**

Will sat on the edge of the toilet in the dark.  For the third time he pressed Toby’s speed dial, and for the third time he cancelled it.  He sat there another four minutes before he was willing to try again.  
  
This time he let it ring, listening in the dark with tired, anxious thoughts crawling through his brain.   _ Toby is probably asleep.  This is a bad idea._  He let it ring anyway.   
  
“Hey, this is Toby,” said his voice mail in a sweet Kentucky drawl.  “I’d really like to talk to you.  Leave me a message.”  When the beep sounded, Will only got out the words “Toby, I’m –“ before the screen indicated there was another call for him.  It was Toby, calling him back.  He pressed the button to cancel the current call and switch over.  
  
“Toby,” he said.  
  
“What the fuckin’ hell, Will,” Toby snapped.  “This better be life and death, because I’m running on empty here.”  
  
“I needed you,” Will insisted.  “Thank you for picking up.”  
  
“Don’t thank me yet.”  Toby sighed.  “One of the johns threw up all over my favorite shoes.  I don’t think I’m fixin’ to smile any time tonight.”  
  
“You don’t have to smile.  Just – be honest.”  
  
“Honest?  You want _honest?_  You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, Will.  You say you can’t give me up and then you don’t call for a week.  You make me beg for something any other guy would die to have.  And fuck me, Will, but I want to give it to you.”  
  
“This isn’t what I wanted,” Will said, shaking his head.  “I’m hanging up.”  
  
“Don’t you  dare,” Toby said, shrill and demanding.  “You’re getting exactly what’s coming to you.  It’s time to pay the fuckin’ piper.”  
  
The sweat on Will’s brow was cold and damp, and he futilely tried to wipe it off with his hand, but all he managed to do was spread it around.  “I know,” he said, his voice equally cold.   
  
“So how do you want it, Will?  How’s it going to be?  What kind of a pitiful fuck are you tonight?”  His words cut, like a lash, and Will welcomed the pain.  His head swam.   
  
“You – your mouth,” he whispered, and already he was hard, desperately so.  Will dug his hand under the elastic of his shorts and squeezed his shameful erection.   
  
“Where do you want me to put that mouth,  _Will?”_   Toby snarled.  “You want it so bad, you’d better be fixin’ to tell me what you want me to do with it.”  
  
“Suck me,” Will said, stroking hard and fast, panting into it.  “Suck my cock, Toby.”  
  
“You want me on my knees, don’t you.”  It wasn’t a question.  “You want to be balls-deep in my throat, making me take it.”  
  
“No,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes against the searing image.  “No, I –“  
  
“Yeah, you do.  I know what you like, Will.  I  _know_ you.  You need it more than any man I know.”  He laughed, cruel and quick.  “Grab my hair.  Come on, wrap your hands around my neck and fuckin’ _do_ me.”  
  
“Toby,” he groaned, gripping himself harder, thrusting into his fist.  It wasn’t Toby’s mouth, but if he reached for it, he could almost pretend it was, almost get what he needed.   
  
“You know I love it.” Toby’s sweet voice sliced into him, laid him bare.  “Anything you want to do to me, you know I can’t get enough of it.  I’m your fuckin’ whore, Will.”  
  
“No,” he protested, even as the words drove him closer to the edge.  “Toby… I  _love_ you.”  
  
“You love what you can get from me.  You know I can’t ever say no to you.”  Will could hear the tears creeping into his voice, as they often did when Toby was close to coming.  “You’re fuckin’ using me, Will.  And I  love it.  So come on, give it to me, hard and fast, just how I like it – you  _owe_ me, Will.”  
  
“Everything,” he said, with a gasp like a sob.  “I owe you everything.”  
  
“You better believe it,” Toby hissed. “Now come for me – come in that precious mouth you love so much.”  
  
Will muffled the sound of his cries in the crook of his elbow, his hips lifting off the edge of the toilet seat, and he shot his load into his boxers.  The sound of Toby’s own desperate orgasm came hard on the heels of his own.   He was moaning Will’s name, and Will started to cry.  
  
“Toby, I don’t – I want –“  
  
“I know.”  Toby was subdued now, his voice tinged with regret.  “It’s just a game, Will.  I know what you need.  I’m just giving it to you.  It doesn’t mean anything.”  
  
“I love you,” Will whispered, broken.   
  
“I know,” Toby repeated, annoyed.  “Don’t worry about it.  Just – for fuck’s sake, Will, call a little earlier next time, okay?  I’m a bitch when I’m tired.”  
  
“Yeah, you are,” he smiled, wiping the tears away and sniffing.  “You need your sleep.”  
  
“I’m going to be useless as tits on a boar hog tomorrow.”  Toby snorted delicately.  “Anything else I can do for you,  darlin’?”  
  
“Don’t – don’t call me that,” Will said, stung. “Not like this.”  
  
“I’ll still mean it tomorrow,” said Toby.  “Nothing’s changed.  You’re still my darlin’.”  
  
“Please.”  Will was begging him.  “I can’t hear you say that right now.”  
  
Toby laughed scornfully.  “Nothin’ shameful in wanting this, Will.  Don’t make this about your fuckin’ issues.”   
  
“I can’t help it.”  His voice was a thread of remorse.  “You know me too well.”  
  
“I know you just well enough.  And I still love you, you fuckin’ idiot.  Now get back to bed before Terri wakes up and comes looking for you.”  
  
Will slipped off his soiled shorts and dropped the whole sodden mess into the hamper.  He’d do the laundry tomorrow morning, so Terri wouldn’t find them.  She was bound to get on his case about it, if she did.  “Can I call you tomorrow?”  
  
“Not before noon, unless you have a fuckin’ death wish,” he said.  “I’ve got senior studio until 2:30, but then I’m free.  Call then.  I can guarantee I’ll be in a better mood.”  
  
“I – “  Will let his eyes close.  “Good night, Toby.”  
  
“Good night… Will.”  Will heard him relent. “Don’t fret this, really.  It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last either.  Just accept yourself, for once.  I do.”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, and smiled, a painful, honest smile.  “You do.”  
  


* * *

 

**2009 - Denver, CO**

Toby did lots of things to exorcise thoughts, feelings, and memories of Will, but dancing had always been the easiest and most effective.  That’s why he started working with an escort service all those years ago.  He let Will believe it was something he’s done since college, but the reality was that the thought never even occurred to Toby until that first hard year after Will married Terri.  In the beginning, the approval and unmasked desire on the faces of strangers lifted Toby up, got him through the long nights alone.  Now, all of it just made him feel slightly ill, but it eased the hurt he carried every day and it pissed Will off.

Toby knew his reasoning was flawed, but he figured that if he couldn’t have what he really wanted from Will, he’d settle for pissing him off.

At least it was something.

That morning, after Will called him, desperate and aching, Toby was antsy.  It hadn’t been the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last, but Toby still felt used.  He muddled through his late-morning routine of coffee-walk Annie-drive to school, and calmed himself with some stretches in the studio before his seniors burst through the door.  He was especially fond of the group; he’d been with them since they were frightened 6 th graders in his Basic class.  They greeted him, like always, with hugs and smiles and excited chatter as they tucked their dance bags along the edges of the studio and took their places for warm-up.  He lead them through a modified ballet barre, more for his scattered brain than their own benefit, since they’d already had their daily ballet class.  His stars, Hannah and Lucas, raised eyebrows in question, and he just smiled and continued on with plies as he encouraged them.  “I know, kittens, but it’s good discipline.  You’ll thank me someday.”

He was a little more centered when he released them to the floor for stretches, and by the time they gathered in the corner for turns he was back on top of his game.  He was feeling particularly devilish, so he worked up an impromptu routine to rival the best of Bob Fosse, and he was so thrilled with the way the kids take to it that when they begged for fifteen minutes of tap at the end of the period, he couldn’t say no.  He waited while his tappers, the ones who studied outside of school, switched their jazz shoes and the studio was awash in the jangling of metal.  The ones who didn’t tap, the ones who fancied themselves serious ballet dancers and only took jazz because the school required it, arranged themselves underneath and on top of the barres to watch while Toby lead the rest of the class through the first three LeTang routines.  They finished just before the bell, a pile of laughing bodies sprawled breathless on the floor.  It made Toby ridiculously happy to see them like that.  It made him think of dancing with Laurie back at B-W.

They scattered to the locker rooms at the bell, and Toby lingered behind, taking advantage of the empty studio to work through some things he wanted to try with his senior tappers for the holiday showcase.  When his phone rand out the faint sounds of Prince’s Kiss, signalling a call from Will, Toby ignored it.

He also ignored the insistent trilling of his voicemail notification.

Instead, once he was safely ensconced in his car, he put his phone on speaker and called Brad, who answered on the third ring.

“Tobias.”  Toby could hear music and laughter, and the familiar sounds of teenagers talking.

“Bradley.  I’m interrupting.  I can call back later.”  Toby really didn’t want to do that, because talking to Brad would be the only thing to keep him from calling Will back.

“No, hold on.”  Toby waited through footsteps and the gentle clicking of a door closing, and then there was blissful silence.  “Okay.  Sorry.  Will called an extra Glee practice, and now he’s late.”

“I think that might be my fault.  I told him to call me, and then I didn’t answer.”  Toby ran a hand through his hair as he merged onto the highway and promptly slid to a halt in a sea of tail lights.

“Are you also responsible for the foul mood he’s been in all day?”  Brad’s tone was lightly teasing, but Toby could hear the serious underneath.

“He didn’t help my mood, either, just to be fair.”  Damn traffic.  Toby tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

“I’m not going to ask what happened.”  Brad never asked, never pried, never passed judgment.  He just listened, and offered only solicited advice.  Never mind the way he had of always turning the conversation around so that Toby asked for advice even when that wasn’t his intent, but whatever.

“More of the same.  I’m in a right mess out here.”  Toby inched the car forward a scant few inches, and then dropped his head back against the headrest. 

“When was the last time you took class?”  Brad was treading carefully. 

“A few weeks back.”  Toby was almost ashamed to admit it.  He reminded his students that the most important thing they can do for their technique and their bodies and minds was to take class regularly, but there have been too many thoughts of Will to erase lately.  Toby had been escorting more and more, which made Will sullen and irritable, which in turn sent Toby back into the gazes of other men. 

“I don’t care what your plans were for the night.  Get out of your head.  Maybe you’ll find some clarity.”  Toby could hear mild banging on Brad’s end of the phone, so he sighed and nodded.

“Okay.  I’ll take a class.  Sounds like you’re needed.  Thanks, Bradley.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“You secretly love me, don’t lie,” Toby laughed lightly.  “But seriously, thanks.”

“No problem.  Just . . .”  Brad sighed.

“What?”

“Take care of yourself, okay?  I worry about you.”  Toby could hear what Brad wasn’t saying, that Will worried too.

“I will.  I know.”  Toby disconnected the call, and swiped at unexpected tears at the corners of his eyes.  He didn’t even know what he was crying about.

***   
Ballet had never been Toby’s favorite, thought he appreciated the tradition and the history.  That said, when he needed to clear his head rather than dance to exhaustion, he picked ballet over tap or jazz.  There was just too much to focus on in ballet; he couldn’t think about anything beyond his body in space, and in those moments of losing himself in the routine of barre work or the balance and extension of adagio, he occasionally connected with the brilliant truths of his life.

So that night, he picked a ballet class, the advanced adult class at the arts complex where he sometimes performs.  The teacher, Ellie, was an old friend from his early days in Denver, back when he was diligent and took class regularly and Ellie was another struggling dancer trying to make a living, teaching baby ballet in exchange for her own class fees.  Toby loved that class, and Ellie’s unique perspective, an incongruous combination of ballet and something that always felt wholly more holistic. 

The class was small, a handful of women around Toby’s age, and a younger girl, tall and slim and barely out of her teens.  Toby took his place at the barre and waited for Ellie to start the music, and then she turned out the lights.  

Toby closed his eyes and let his body relax into the plies and port de bras; he had to juggle his body a bit on the left when he switched from second to fifth position, and Ellie was on him in an instant, her small hands gently guiding his hip and back into the right placement.  She stayed with him through the next movement, sweeping stretches facing the barre, and back to first position on the other side.  

“What’s going on?”  She whispered in his ear over the shifting of bodies and the lilt of the music.    
Toby just shook his head and leaned over, touching his nose to his turned-out knees.  Ellie swept her palms over the curve of his spine, and he relaxed down another fraction of an inch.  The stretch felt blissful, and before Toby even realized it, he was crying.  Not the barely-there tears from his car earlier but full-on rolling down his cheeks tears.  Ellie tugged on his arm once he was upright and nodded to the young girl.  “Everyone follow Adele through tendus and petite battements.  I’ll be back.”

She guided Toby into the hall and over to the broad stairs that led upstairs to the gallery space.     
When they were both sitting, she leaned into him and he leaned back. 

“What’s wrong, T?”

Toby started to say that he didn’t know, but the words got caught.  He just shook his head instead.

“Boy troubles?” 

“We haven’t been boys in years.”  Toby watched understanding creep into Ellie’s eyes.   
“Oh.  Your man.  The one back in Ohio, right?”  Toby thought it was odd that Ellie remembered, because he hadn’t talked about Will with her in years.

“Yeah.  It’s just complicated.”  He sighed, and leaned back on his elbows on the stair behind them.

“Always is, when it’s love.  Why hasn’t he moved here?  Or you there?”  It was a valid question;  Toby just dried his eyes and blinked in surprise because nobody had ever asked him that before.

“The complicated?  He’s straight.  Or so he maintains.  He’s married, in any case.”  He shook his head.

“And you just let things be the way they are, taking what you can get?”  There was no judgement in Ellie’s voice, just curiosity.

“That’s just the way it’s always been.  I don’t know how to be any other way with him.”  Toby knew, deep in his core, that he could never walk away from Will.  So he just kept hanging on, chasing the breadcrumbs Will kept leaving for him and moving forward on blind faith that Will was always going to be a long-distance part of his life.  But what if the only distance between them was emotional rather than geographic?  He gasped at the thought.

Ellie shifted next to him.  “What’s keeping you here?  In Denver, I mean.” 

Toby closed his eyes and thought on it.  Even though he’d lived here for better than a decade, most of the trappings of his life were transient, and had been since he was 14 years old.  He felt weak with the realization.  “Nothing.” 

“So go to him.  You’ve stuck with him this long.  If you love him, if he’s worth it, you need to force his hand.  Don’t choose for him by doing nothing.  Make him choose.”  Ellie patted him on the arm.  “I think maybe class isn’t the place for you tonight.” 

“I think you’re right.”  Toby stood and wrapped Ellie up in his arms.  “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Did you get your clarity?”  She smiled at him as they walked back to the studio so he could get his bag. 

“No.  But I’m closer than I’ve been in a long time.”


	10. 31 years, Denver, CO

**2009 - 31 years - Denver, CO**

Toby was running damned late for school, and was juggling his dance bag and travel mug of coffee into the car when his phone rang in his pocket.  _Will._

"Shit, darlin'. Your timing's crap this morning." Toby shoved his cup into the cupholder and shoved his key into the ignition. "What's wrong that you're calling in the middle of the day?"

Will's chuckle was warm over the distance. "Nothing's wrong that the ticket I booked this morning won't fix."

"Oh! When?" Toby turned onto 38th Avenue and headed west. If he got lucky and hit all the green lights on Federal, he'd make it to school in time to warm up before class. If not, he'd have to just warm up  _with_  his class. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Tomorrow. I get in at five something." He paused, and Toby could hear the next question before Will spoke. "You can pick me up, right?"  _You don't have . . . other plans_ , but Will was too polite to ask about the ways Toby filled the scores of weekends when Will  _wasn't_  there.

"No. No other plans. I have a late rehearsal, though. The holiday concert is coming up in a few weeks. I've got some of my seniors doing this tap number." He pressed the phone to his shoulder and fumbled with his coffee, taking a long sip. "I should be able to cut out without any trouble. I doubt they'd complain about an extra hour on a Friday."

Will laughed. "I think you're probably right. Teenagers."

Toby could hear echoes in the background, the clanging of metal and excited teenage voices. "Are you calling me from a hallway?"

Will laughed again, honey and molasses. "The auditorium. The kids are getting ready to sing. We've had a hard week here. I messed up, Toby, big time. But Kurt, he and some of the girls did this number yesterday, and it helped me see. And Brad. Well." Will sighed. "You know Brad. He always has the answers. The number today, it was his idea. Or, he gave me the sheet music, at least."

Toby could almost see Will shake his head with the wondering.  _Oh, darlin'._  Toby could picture him, the way he got when the puzzles of his world started falling together. For all of his experiences, Will was still a little bit naiive; it was one of the things Toby loved most about him. "Aren't you afraid of the risk, calling me from school?"

"No." Will's laugh now was a little bit bitter. "Not today, at least."

"Oh, darlin'. It must have been a hell of a week."

Will softened his voice to a whisper. "You have no idea. Brad tried to talk me out of seeing you this weekend, with Sectionals so close, but I need you, Toby."

Toby pulled into his parking spot, five minutes early for class, and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He hated it when Will's need snuck up on him like that. His voice caught around sudden tears in his throat. "God, Will. I need you, too."

"Tomorrow. Now-" Toby could hear muffled crackling and Will calling to the kids before he was back, rich and sweet in Toby's ear. "Listen."

Toby closed his eyes, felt his hand grow warm from the battery in his phone. The sweet sound of a young girl's soprano floated through the miles. He knew instantly why Brad had picked the song, or at least presented it to Will. The three of them, and Andi, had sung it for a B-W talent show back when they were still in elementary school. Way back before things got complicated, when Toby still had a home with his parents and he and Will were just little boys sharing a bed to keep the unknown of the night away.

He listened until the last note had floated away, until Will's remarkable kids had finished singing. He could hear them over the distance, waiting in anticipation, but Will's first words were whispered to him. "Do you remember?"

Toby wiped at the tears on his cheeks. "Yes, darlin'. I remember."

He didn't care, anymore, that he was late for class.

* * *

It was always the same thrill of anticipation that ran through Will as he stepped off the plane, pulling his wheeled carry-on behind him.  _In five minutes, I'll be there,_  he thought, and his stomach tightened, doing flip-flops like he was sixteen again.  _In four minutes, I'll get to stand next to him and look him in the face._ He felt that urgency, as thought if he didn't give it a little extra speed, something might be gone, and he drove his steps faster, stepping onto the moving walkway to pick up a little time.  _In three minutes, I'll feel his fingers around mine._ The escalator met him, carried him inexorably down a flight of stairs, and he walked down the next set of stairs himself because he couldn't abide standing still any longer.  _In two minutes, I'll smell his cologne as I reach to hug him. In one minute, I'll hear him calling me darlin'. Any second, I'll get to taste-_

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," drawled Toby, smiling his crooked smile, eyes glowing. "Welcome home, darlin'."

"Toby," he said, abandoning his suitcase and holding out both arms. They fell into each other's embrace, neither one willing to let go for one instant. Will breathed him in. "God, I missed you."

"Let's not waste any time, all right?" Toby said, taking his hand.  _There's a little more grey in his hair than there was last time,_ he thought, trying to walk and fill his eyes with Toby at the same time. "You don't have any bags to pick up, do you?"

"No," Will said. "Just this one." He bent to reach for it at the same time that Toby did, and their foreheads collided, just a little knock, but they laughed and Will watched his eyes crinkle and his lips part a little with his laugh, and –

"God," he said again, and this time it was full of heat. "Toby."

"For the love of Pete, Will," Toby said, shaking his head and pursing his lips. "It's like you ain't never  _seen_  a man before."

"It's just you," he said, and it was true. No one made his breath catch, made his pulse race, made his dick get hard quite like Toby did.

Toby's slow, teasing smile was full of promise. "Well, let's shake a leg, then." He tugged Will's hand after him, and Will ran a few steps to catch up with him. Toby was as tall as he was, but his legs were longer, and it was a certainty that Toby was in better shape, dancing every day as he did. He put his eyes on Toby's behind, encased in those jeans, and he had to laugh as himself for ogling. Toby knew he was looking, because he put a little sashay into his step and wiggled his butt.

"Subtle," Will choked, his face heating.

"Ain't nobody ever accused me of that, darlin'," Toby said, gaily, holding the door open for him. The day was cool and beautiful, with just a hint of snow in the air, and Will breathed in the crisp Denver air with appreciation. It seemed so much cleaner up here, the sun a little brighter than in Ohio, the far-away mountains offering a glimpse of another world.

"How's Annie?" he asked, catching up to Toby at last as he pressed the button to cross the street. He slid an arm around his waist, letting his hand rest on Toby's narrow hip. Toby tut-tutted and shook his head mournfully.

"Silly as ever," he said, his sweet, light voice full of affection. "I swear, if that girl had an idea it would die of loneliness."

"She's not still trying to find that ball?" Will said, and Toby laughed. It dug in under his skin and coated him with a layer of goose bumps. He couldn't stop smiling; his cheeks felt like they were going to crack.

"Still is, " Toby agreed. "And it's long gone, but she still thinks it's where you put it, under the couch."

"I brought her a new one," Will said. Toby's arm guided him across the street as the sign changed. He let Toby steer, let himself be led to his car, not thinking of anything but  _Toby, it's Toby, I'm here with Toby._

"Let's get that bag in the car, all right?" Toby said, popping the hatchback on the RAV-4. Will lifted the suitcase in beside Toby's racquetball bag and Annie's blanket. A sudden gust of wind made him shiver, and Toby turned to him, the hatch still open, and their mouths were connecting, his tongue was in Toby's mouth, and he was gasping, his hands full of Toby's short hair, still wet from the shower. It was the sweetest taste in the world.

"Oh," said Toby.  _Sweeter than honey, sweeter than syrup._ "Will."

"Yeah," said Will, roughly. "Let's go home."

Will stumbled around to the other side of the car while Toby closed the hatch. He regretted wearing this particular pair of jeans because, although he knew they looked great on him, they didn't leave a lot of wiggle room. Right now, they were particularly tight. He couldn't understand how Toby could squeeze into those skinny jeans, though his body was as tight and fit now, in his mid-thirties, as it had ever been in their youth. Will tried to adjust himself as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his earring. He never wore it at school, or even in Lima that much, but he knew Toby secretly loved it, so he always made sure to bring it with him on these weekends.

"I'd ask how your flight was, but I bet you slept through it, hmmm?" Toby said, turning the key in the ignition. His bright eyes roved over the road in front of them, but he spared a smile for Will. His hand quickly put the car into drive, then reached out. Their fingers tangled, and Will gripped him firmly, loving the strength in Toby's slender hand.

"Most of it," Will admitted. "If I sit still in one place for long enough, I usually do."

"That's a gift I wish I had." Toby pulled smoothly into traffic. The clock read 5:35, though Will's watch said it was 7:35. "You hungry, darlin'?"

"I ate in the airport before I left," he said. "I'm fine for now. I want to… get settled."

"I know just what you want to do," Toby drawled, and his voice went straight to Will's cock and wrapped around it like a hand, like a tongue. He let out a shaky, startled laugh.

"Oh, yeah?" he said, trying to sound casual, teasing, but to his ears it just sounded desperate. "What do you think I want to do?"

Toby gave him an amused look that said  _You really want to do this in the car, Will?_ "You want to make a reservation for Little India," he said. "For seven fifteen. And then you want to spend the next hour and a half in my bed."

"Well," said Will, feeling lightheaded. "If you've got it all planned out, I guess I'd better go along with it, hadn't I?"

"Reservation's already made, darlin'," he said, his smile sly. "Now let's see if we can make it home without crashing the car."

Will ran a hand down Toby's shoulder, feeling the familiar strength, the curves of his triceps and biceps on his right arm. Toby didn't need to flex for him, but he did anyway. Will's heart caught, did a little two-step, and landed back on track.  _Toby._  His whole body was alive with the feel of him.  _A whole weekend of Toby. Start the clock: now. Don't waste one minute._

"Bring that hand over here," Toby murmured, tucking Will's arm under his and clasping their hands together. "How are things at work? The kids getting up to their usual hijinks?"

"They had a bake sale a few weeks ago," Will said, his eyebrow twitching, watching Toby's mouth, Toby's hand on the steering wheel, Toby's long legs. "It was remarkably successful."

"Uh-huh," Toby said. "Now what aren't you telling me? I hear a whole story underneath that one."

"Artie – he's the one in the wheelchair?" Will prompted, and Toby nodded. He knew the Glee kids just about as well as anyone could, without having ever been to Lima. Will skipped right over the reasons behind that, and moved on. "They needed to raise money to get a handicap-accessible bus to drive to Sectionals."

"Seems like your tight-fisted principal should be shelling out the bucks for that." Toby's expressive eyebrows did their own dance, and his mouth was stern. "Don't tell me they don't have laws protecting disabled kids in the untamed Ohio wilderness?"

"It's technically a club," Will said. "So they're not covered. I know, it's awful."

"It's more than awful, it's barbaric," Toby declared.

"I love it when you get all Human Rights Campaign about things," Will said, continuing his hand's journey down to Toby's perfect abs.

"Technically, that's DREDF's purview, darlin'," he said. "HRC's for gay kids. But I know you have your share of those in Glee too. How's that one fellow doing? The sweet little queen?"

"Kurt," Will said. "Do you have to call him that? I'm sure he'd be offended."

"I'm sure I wouldn't say it in front of him," Toby said dryly. "Someday he'll reclaim those terms too, and it'll be an endearment, just like –"

"Don't," pleaded Will, jerking back his hand. "I don't want to hear it. Those terms are poison."

"Only if you let them be, darlin'," Toby said, but it was an old argument between them, and Will knew Toby wouldn't force it with him, any more than he'd force the other stuff. "How about  _gay?_  Can I say that without pushing your buttons?"

"Do we have to argue, Toby?" Will sighed. "I didn't come here to do that."

"What _did_  you come here to do, Will?" The question was colored with gentle teasing, but there was an undercurrent of challenge. The pattern never changed, had not changed in years. Will always came for the same thing; Toby always asked for more; Will always left without giving it to him.

"I came to… see you," said Will, and the energy was back, the car was charged with it. Will was caught off guard by the strength of it, but it swept through his limbs and renewed his erection, and he let it carry his hand to Toby's leg, stroking the inside of his thigh with two fingers. Toby's legs relaxed a bit, opening to Will's touch, and he sighed.

"Funny way to see someone," he continued, in the same vein. "Last time I tried seeing someone, I used my eyes."

"I'm using them," Will said, looking Toby up and down, settling on his crotch, where he could see Toby had dressed left today. "I also came to … to touch you."

"You sure did, darlin'," Toby breathed, his voice white-hot. "What are you waiting for?"

"God, Toby," he groaned, and let his fingers flutter down to the outline of his cock, pressed into the shape of his skinny jeans. Toby moaned his approval, lifting his hips into Will's touch.

"I'm not a little boy anymore, Will," he said, and Will felt a stab of shame that Toby did still sound an awful lot like he did when he was fourteen. Not that he wanted him to be fourteen,  _no._  He wanted this man, his own age, his own Toby, like he wanted no one else. No one else.

"What's your point?" Will said, palming Toby's long cock, feeling an echoing jump in his own. He put a momentary hand on himself, adjusting, finding a way to fit into these too-tight jeans that wouldn't leave him strangled and desperate by the time they got to Toby's house.

"I won't go off like a rocket at a touch," he said. "You can have your way with me here in the car. I'll hold off until we get home."

"And then?" Will asked. He glanced at Toby's face. It was gloriously clean-shaven, and Will felt another surge to his cock. He knew what that meant.

"Then," said Toby. He smirked, licking his lips. "Oh, yes, then."

"Toby," Will begged, popping the button on Toby's jeans and trying to inch down the zipper. It was useless, though – it was like they were painted on. "Come on."

"Then… it's your choice, darlin'," he breathed, somehow moving Will's hand in such a way that he fit inside his jeans, and that did something to Will, to feel his hand so close to Toby's center, to the hot core of him, because he made a startled noise and bucked his own hips involuntarily. "You can have my mouth… or my ass."

"Ohhh…" Will groaned, dizzy with wanting. "I don't want to have to choose. I want you every way I can get you."

"What's going to be first?" Toby said, still the picture of calm. Somehow he could drive and do this without going off the road, and thank God for that. They were almost to Toby's neighborhood, anyway. Will's lust-shrouded mind recognized familiar landmarks: the big rock, the playground, the stand of willow trees by the pond where Annie liked to play.

"Your mouth," said Will, feeling his face redden. It was something Terri wouldn't do for him, and he was ashamed to admit he dreamed about Toby's mouth more often than he dreamed about any other part of him.

"You got it," Toby promised. He pulled smoothly into the driveway, pressing the button for the garage door opener and gliding into the cool darkness of the garage. "Let's get your bag in the house."

Toby didn't bother to do up his jeans as he climbed out of the car, and the glimpse of skin over his briefs fired Will's desire more than it should. He followed Toby up the stairs and through the door into the cozy family room.

"Annie," cooed Will, getting down on his knees and letting the runty yellow lab-retriever mix lick his face. Her feathery white-yellow ruff tickled his hands and he exclaimed over her while Toby took his bag upstairs. She lay on her back and gave him adoring doggie glances while he rubbed her belly.

"I swear, William Schuester," he heard Toby's amused voice floating down the stairs, "I can't be sure if you come to Denver to see me or Annie."

"It's a toss-up," Will called back, and gave Annie one last pat before hurrying up the stairs, already undoing the buttons on his shirt. "But I think you win."

He stopped short in the doorway to Toby's bedroom, catching his breath at the sight of the naked man stretched out on the queen-sized bed ("Just right for this queen," Toby always joked), waiting for him.

"God, you're gorgeous," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I've missed you so much."

"And I'm all yours, darlin'," said Toby, smiling. "Now come here and let me show you what you've been missing."

* * *

They lay in Toby's bed in the last gleaming rays of the evening sun, Will tracing lazy circles on the small of Toby's back. He knew that Toby loved being touched there, that it was somehow linked to every other spot in his body, and Will could probably make him come just by continuing to make those slow, deliberate circles. But they were relaxed now; Will wasn't trying to do anything. He just wanted to feel him.

"Something about your skin," he murmured, noting the contours of his ass, the shape of him against the maroon flannel sheet. Toby turned his head to the side, sprawled unselfconsciously on the bed, and watched Will with one soft eye.

"It protects me, darlin'," Toby said. "Just like yours does. Nothing more than that."

Will gave him a half-smile. "What do you need protecting from?"

"Ohh, I think you know the answer to that," Toby said, rolling over onto his back. He reached up and tugged Will down to lie upon him, sprawled on his chest like Annie might, had she been allowed on the bed. Toby restricted her to the dining room when they were making love, although she sometimes snuck in afterwards to sit right by their feet, curled into the tiniest ball as though to say  _Don't mind me, I'm not really here._

Will couldn't handle that question, not with Toby so close, right there in his face. "It's almost time for dinner," he said instead. "You want the shower first, or me?"

"I want you first," Toby said, taking a handful of Will's firm ass and pulling their hips together, kissing him with the benefit of long experience. Will chuckled into Toby's mouth, twisting away.

"Again?" he said, amused. "You're hungry tonight."

"I missed you," Toby replied, playfully. His finger stroked Will's throat, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "Let me touch you."

The truth, that Toby knew as well as Will, was that Toby  _did_  touch him, could touch him from across the country, with only his voice. Will heard that voice on the phone at least once a week, but to have it here, right next to him, attached to the delicious package that was Toby's lithe dancer's body, was enough to make Will hard again, right away. "Sing to me," he implored.

"Sure," Toby said, smiling. He rolled Will over to lie on his back, and straddled him with his long, strong legs. "I don't know why you like to hear me so much. There's not a director in the world who'd say they cast me for my voice."

"I can't explain it, Toby," Will said. "You just move me."

"You're just a big softie," Toby teased, as his hands on Will made a lie of his words. Will laughed, and gasped, and moaned under Toby's expert touch. He thought it was amazing how well Toby knew how to please him, after fifteen years of occasional weekends, when Terri could barely manage to get him off anymore.

Toby stroked his hands down Will's thighs, and sang, still smiling. His voice was sweeter than Gordon Lightfoot's, by far, but it had a similar lilt, and Will thought the song suited him.

 _The lamp is burnin' low upon my tabletop_

 _The snow is softly falling_

 _The air is still in the silence of my room_

 _I hear your voice softly calling_

 _If I could only have you near_

 _To breathe a sigh or two_

 _I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

 _On this winter night with you_

Will settled back on the soft sheets, his arms behind his head, filling his senses with Toby: the curve of his rib cage, his straight nose, the dusting of hair on his chest… and above all, his sweet, delicate voice: the bane of Toby's existence, and Will's favorite thing about him. Will's smile rose, unbidden, to his lips, and he sighed with delicious contentment.

Toby arched his back like a cat – Will couldn't count the number of times Toby had now been cast in that musical – and came down to rub his face on the fuzz on Will's belly. It was almost pornographic the way Toby loved to touch him. Not that Will begrudged him the opportunity; on the contrary, it was what he wanted more than just about anything in the world. But he felt a little embarrassed, watching Toby get off on his body,  _his_ body, when he knew how he felt about Toby, himself.  _It's just a mutual admiration society in this house,_  Toby would say.

"More," he begged, and Toby knew what he meant. Obligingly, he sang, his head resting on Will's stomach, his fingers lazily curled around Will's cock, stroking slowly, not trying too hard, just loving him. Will felt warmed from the inside, the fire burning in his core, deep in his being, stoked by Toby's patient touch.

 _The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead_

 _My glass is almost empty_

 _I read again between the lines upon the page_

 _The words of love you sent me_

 _If I could know within my heart_

 _That you were lonely too_

 _I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

 _On this winter night with you_

Toby's fingers parted his legs and cupped his balls gently, drawing him out, giving Will what he needed to feel good. It seemed to be Toby's mission in life to make Will feel good – never requiring too much, just happy to be there, to offer what he had and take what Will could give him in return. Will felt the familiar stab of guilt, mixed with the pleasure of Toby's touch, and the pure delight of listening to him sing.

Toby moved gracefully to the space between Will's legs, watching his face, giving him the opportunity to decline his unspoken offer. In response, Will reached for the bottle of lube Toby kept in the drawer by his bed, passing it with a condom into Toby's hands. Toby leaned down and kissed him between the words of the song, then smoothly unwrapped the condom and slid it on his erect cock.

Will didn't want to think too much about how easy that was for Toby, about how many other men Toby had had spread out like this on his cozy bed, or how many men had in turn pressed their cocks into Toby's tight ass. He knew it wasn't important, in these moments. They were entirely there for one another, and Toby's wet fingers stroking into him were just for Will. Toby loved him. That had to be enough.

Toby's gentle voice continued, only marked by the occasional gasp and tremor, as he eased himself into Will, stroking slowly at first, then finding an easy rhythm, filling him over and over. Will could scarcely admit to himself how much he loved the feeling of Toby inside him. It was easier than breathing.

 _The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim_

 _The shades of night are lifting_

 _The morning light steals across my window pane_

 _Where webs of snow are drifting_

 _If I could only have you near_

 _To breathe a sigh or two_

 _I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

 _And to be once again with with you_

 _To be once again with with you_

"Toby," Will cried, caught, as always, by the unexpected surge as Toby's thrusts found that spot inside him. He fisted his own cock roughly, letting Toby's rhythm take him into a world where it was just the two of them, just this place, just Toby and Will and nothing else. It was where he needed to be.

"That's it," Toby urged, lifting Will's hips, panting not with effort – Toby could, and sometimes did, do this all night without breaking a sweat – but with emotion. It was only in these moments that Toby really ever lost his calm. Will had to admit he loved to see him come apart, to see his face grimace and strain with the passion he felt, but seldom expressed. "You feel so good, darlin', I just love your sweet ass."

 _It's all yours,_  Will wanted to say. He wanted to say that, and have it be true. But he couldn't.

"I love you so much," he said instead, and let his orgasm overtake him, shooting thick streams of come onto his stomach. Toby felt him clench, and groaned with release, driving his hips into Will, getting as close as he could, closer, closer.

It was never close enough.

* * *

Will's routine when he came out for a weekend was the same; Toby knew it like he knew his own heartbeat, and in some ways he thrived on it. His Will was nothing if not predictable.

Toby loved Indian food, but he saved it for Will. It was their thing, garlic naan and vegetable samosas, chicken vindaloo and vegetarian biryani, with an order of kheer to take home for later. They would eat it together, two spoons out of the container, entwined together in bed after their second or third round of sex.

But Toby thought that his favorite part of all of it might be walking into Little India with Will. The combination of Will's presence and the almost-sensual aromas of curry and saffron and garam masala made Toby lightheaded and full of wanting. It was sometimes all he could do to control himself and his needy, wandering hands until the meal was over and they were back on the street, walking to the car.

Toby wasn't sure why, but this time everything felt different. Toby had thought that Willl was on the verge of asking him for something, back in Toby's bed on the verge of release, but he'd gone silent instead. And Toby couldn't lie anymore and say it didn't hurt, because all of it, the wanting and distance and Will's damned inability to put words to his needs left Toby aching and empty.

All the years, and Toby wasn't sure he could do any of it anymore.

Toby watched Will, sliding a corner of naan through the remnants of vindaloo and rice on his plate, and finally found his voice at the bottom of his water glass.

"Talk to me, darlin'."

Will pushed his plate gently away from the edge of the table. "And tell you what?"

"What you couldn't or wouldn't tell me back at the house." Toby knew lots of things in that moment: that he was pushing a clear boundary, that he needed to do it, and that he didn't care if he was breaking a rule.

Will just shook his head. "Not now." His voice was strained and a little cold.

Toby caught Will's gaze and held it. "What do you want?"

"I can't- Toby. You know why I can't." But Toby didn't, really.

He lowered his voice to a bitter whisper. "I don't, Will. I don't understand, not anymore." Maybe he never had, but since things with Terri, Toby was at a loss. "What are you so scared of? What do you gain by hiding yourself away?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Halfhearted words at best, Toby could tell.

"Bullshit. You're so far inside your own head, your own closet, that you can't see it." Toby hates getting angry at Will; it had only happened a handful of times in 15 years, but it's almost a necessity now.

"I'm not closeted, Toby."

"I know. You're straight as an arrow, Will Schuester. With a boy you fuck any chance you have to get away for a weekend." Toby lowered his voice even further, but there was no way any of the tables around them could hear over the light music and the clang of dishes and silverware.

"It's not like that. God. Toby, you know you're more than that to me." Will sounded wounded.

"Do I? Because from where I'm sitting, I'm not so sure."

"But I-"

Toby sighed, and looked at Will with hurt eyes. "I know, darlin'. You love me. You tell me plenty. I just wish-"

"You wish what?" The waiter dropped the check, and Will reached into his pocket for his wallet, flipped his debit card into the plastic tray without even looking at the check.

Suddenly, Toby was choking on his words. If he told Will what he really wanted, he would be pushing the biggest boundary of them all and he would undoubtedly send Will away. Toby couldn't have that, so he sipped at his re-filled water and uttered the best thing he could think of.

"I wish I didn't have to fight so hard for you."

Will just looked at him like he didn't understand. "But you have me, Toby. I'm here."

Toby couldn't say anything else. Will really didn't see it. He stood while Will signed the credit card slip, gathered up their bag of leftovers and dessert. He let Will's hand at the small of his back guide him through the crowded restaurant and out into the cool December night. He looked up at the stars, crisp in the bright sky.

"You're not. Not really."

They rode home in complete silence.

* * *

" _Annie,"_ Will called, clapping his hands. "Annie, girl, c'mon."

"She take off again?" Will started, turned to see Toby leaning against the door frame, naked, grinning, arms crossed.

"Uh – Jesus," breathed Will. He drank in the sight of Toby like a peanut-butter milkshake. "You're…"

"Gorgeous? Devastating?" Toby twirled, hands over his head. "What wonderful thing am I, Will?"

"You're awake," Will grinned. "It's not even noon."

"I knew it felt too early," Toby said, and shrugged. "Oh, well. It won't kill me just this once. Maybe it's a special day." He raised one eyebrow. "Whatever shall we do?"

Will reached down, scooped up his jeans shorts, and tossed Toby a clean t-shirt. "Come take a walk with me. We'll find Annie and bring her home."

"Domestic," Toby drawled in approval. "I was kind of hoping for something a little more risqué."

"What, you want me to put  _you_ on the leash?" Will said, joking, and Toby made a cat-purring noise. Will smacked his ass playfully as Toby slid the screen door closed behind them.

"Which way did she go, darlin'?" Toby scanned the backyard for Annie's yellow form, but the little dog was nowhere to be seen, and he clucked in irritation. "We might as try down by the pond. She's gonna be wild as a March hare when we finally corner her."

The late morning was unseasonably warm, and Will found himself unzipping his jacket as they walked together. Toby slipped a hand into his, and they swung their hands between them, lazily.  _Like it was something they did every day,_  Will thought, feeling wistful.

"This is nice," he said.

Toby glanced at him. "You're in a good mood. What's that all about, hmmm?"

"Can't a guy just want to walk with his –" Will chuckled, nervously.

"His  _what?"_  Toby said, eyebrows high on his forehead.

"Boyfriend," Will said, a hair louder than a whisper. "His boyfriend."

"Ah," said Toby. A pink flush appeared on his cheeks. "Well, sure. Sure he can."

"Is – that what you call me?" Will asked, curious.

"I usually say  _lover,_ " he said. "But that's just the queen in me. Boyfriend works just fine, if you prefer it."

It was Will's turn to blush, and he looked at the sidewalk. "I'm happy to be your lover."

"You sure are," Toby agreed, and Will laughed.

They listened for Annie's bark as they walked, but all Will could hear was the whispering breeze and the occasional child's voice. "That young fellow in Glee," Toby said. "Kurt. Does he have a boyfriend?"

"Kurt? I – I don't think so," Will said, furrowing his brow. Kurt was far away, in Lima, and it was hard for Will to reach his mind that far, to talk of Kurt in the same breath with Toby and the allure of the word  _boyfriend._

"I would have given anything to have a boyfriend back in high school," Toby said, sighing. "It was a lonely time. Being the only one out; that's a hard role to play. All the closet cases hated me or wanted to fuck me."

"Nobody hated you," Will protested, but Toby giggled, high and bubbly.

"Darlin', I'm the bitchiest queen this side of Aspen. You better believe people hate me. Back then, though – well, you remember how I was."

"You were -" Will's thoughts went back to a younger Toby, on the stage at Baldwin-Wallace in college, and before that, at music camp, in high school, middle school, even elementary school. "You were still pretty fabulous," Will offered.

"That's not what I meant," said Toby, "but thanks. I had good friends. You and Andi and Brad – I don't think I'd be alive today if you three hadn't been around." Toby eyed Will's uncomfortable nod. "Kurt, does he have friends? Like we were?"

Will thought about Kurt in Glee, and wondered. "I think so," he said. "Mercedes, and Tina. They're close. He's always pretending to be one of the girls."

"He needs some boy friends, too. Not boyfriends, mind you, though I'm sure he'd welcome that. Friends. Who are boys."

"Well, he and Finn, they did that song together," Will said, and thought about Finn's casual arm around Kurt, and Kurt's starry-eyed expression. "I'm pretty sure Kurt's got a crush on him. Finn doesn't seem to mind it, but it's hard to know with Finn sometimes."

They turned the corner into the park. Toby scanned the grounds for Annie, but they were still alone. "Mmm. Anyone else?"

"Kurt said something the other day about... Puck," Will said. Then he stopped, seeing Annie standing there in front of him, her sides heaving, smiling her broad doggie smile. "Hey, girl," he cried, patting his legs, and she jumped up on him.

"You're teaching her bad manners, Will," Toby chided him. "Now she's going to think that's okay to do to anybody."

"I don't mind it," he said, crouching down to rub the fur around her neck.

"Well, of course you don't," Toby said. "You're her daddy. She can get away with anything around you, and she knows it."

Will gazed across the park at a group of kids playing soccer as he fondled Annie's ears. He hesitated, and looked up at Toby. "I'm going to be a daddy for real, Toby," he said quietly. "Terri's having a baby. A girl."

Toby sighed. "I know," he said. "Brad told me. Congratulations."

"You're not mad?"

"How could I be mad about something you've wanted for so long, darlin'?" Toby said. "No matter what else happens, that's the most important thing. It's your life, after all."

"Thanks," Will said, with a sad, grateful smile. "I can't tell you how much it means to me – I mean, our relationship was falling apart, but now, with the baby… I think we have a second chance. I really do."

Toby followed Will's gaze to the kids across the park. "You were born to be a daddy, Will. You're going to be a darn good one, too, I reckon."

"But that's not something  _you_  want."

There was a long pause while Toby collected his thoughts. "It's never been something I was willing to give up my life for," he said finally. "I don't think you can be a daddy without making some sacrifices. Dancing – that's my life. That's  _my_  baby. I don't have room for another one."

"I'm afraid it's going to change things for us," Will admitted. "After she's born, I'm not going to be able to come out here as much."

"I figured," Toby said. "I've kind of expected it for a while. It was bound to happen. You breeders," he teased, but at Will's look, he quelled his amusement.

"It surprised  _me_ ," Will said. "We were barely having sex at all."

Toby didn't respond to that, and instead he called Annie back to them with a clap of his hands. "Come on, darlin'. Let's get this naughty little girl home before she runs away again."

They didn't hold hands on the way back, a gulf of questions rolling between them. Toby asked one of them about halfway to Will's house: "Terri knows about us, doesn't she?"

"She knows I come to visit, yeah," Will said, his hands in his pockets.

Toby shook his head. "Does she knows we're fucking?" he asked, gently.  _He didn't use the word lovers, or the word boyfriends,_ Will thought.  _He said fucking._

Will's mouth hardened into a line. "She definitely knows we're doing something. One time, a few years ago, she walked in on me while I was… you know. And she said…" He chuckled humorlessly. "She said, 'I bet you never do this with Toby.'"

Toby considered this, puzzled. "You do, sometimes," he pointed out.

He smiled. "I think what she meant was, I don't  _have_  to do it for myself, with you. To enjoy myself."

"Oh," Toby said, understanding. "Well, is sex better with me, than it is with her?"

It was such a ridiculous question that Will didn't answer it at first, but then he saw Toby watching him, and he realized he was being serious. Will stopped walking and faced him, taking Toby's slender hands in his. Annie lay on the ground at their feet. Nobody was around, but even if they'd been in the middle of a crowded street, Will wouldn't have paid them any attention. "Toby," he said, with feeling, "there is absolutely no comparison between what I have with Terri and what I have with you."

"I know," Toby said. "I've never asked you to compare them before. My ego just wanted to know which one was better."

Will shook his head in disbelief. "Apparently, you still don't get it," he said, and he took Toby's face in both hands and kissed him, with all the love and passion he could muster. Toby responded enthusiastically, his tongue on Will's, wrapping his arms around Will's back, making adorable little cooing noises. When Will was done with him, Toby was breathless and wide-eyed, staring into his face with a glassy expression.

"This," Will said, and he was not too surprised to find tears in his eyes. "What we have. This is the best thing I've ever had, anywhere." His voice broke on the last word, and he traced the contour of Toby's cheek with the back of one trembling hand.

"Well," said Toby, clearly pleased. "Consider my ego to be well stroked."

They twined their fingers again as they finished their walk, shooting each other come-hither looks that set the stage for the rest of their afternoon activities, but did not speak again until they were nearly at the house. Finally, on the porch, Will cleared his throat. "Um," he said, looking at Toby intently.

"Best thing anywhere, for me, too," Toby said, quietly, to his shoes.

Will's blush went all the way to the roots of his hair. "I'm glad," he said, smiling, and they walked inside together, closing the screen door behind them.


	11. 31 years, Lima/Denver

**2009 - Lima, OH**

"Toby, pick up. I'm – something happened. Toby." Will wiped his nose on his sleeve and tried to still the motion of his leg. "Toby, for God's sake, pick up –"

He heard a click, and someone fumbling for the phone. "Will? Calm down." Those words coming from Toby's mouth didn't do much to help staunch his tears, but just hearing his voice, Will did suddenly feel a lot better. "Darlin', just breathe, okay?"

"It was all lies, Toby," he blurted. His mouth curled up in something like a smile, only it was horrible, it was the most horrible, awful grimace. He swallowed the bile in his throat. "Terri. She was lying to me. The baby – oh, God, Toby."

"Shh," Toby soothed. "You're not making any sense, Will. Whatever it is, it'll keep for two minutes. Tell me about your day."

"My  _day?_ _"_  Will choked on the words, but he sent his mind back, beyond that horrific moment in the kitchen, when he'd been more angry than he'd ever felt – but Toby wanted to know about his  _day._  "Okay," he said, closing his eyes. "I… Figgins is making me pay for the Glee kids to have a picture taken for the yearbook."

"Why?" He could hear Annie whining in the background, and he imagined Toby walking through the dark house to the kitchen to fill up her water bowl.

"He says it costs too much. He wants to put advertising in instead." Will lay back on the naked mattress and stared up at the ceiling. "Rachel got Finn to agree to take a picture with her, as the group captains, but then he didn't show for the picture after school today. She was really hurt."

"You think Finn ditched her on purpose?" He heard Toby scoop some dog food for Annie and dump it into her bowl.

"You know if you feed her now, she's going to expect you to feed her every night at midnight," Will warned him.

"Darlin', she's got me wrapped around her little pinky claw already," Toby said, with a grin in his voice, and, incredibly, Will found himself grinning too. "I bet Finn had a reason for not doing that photo. From what you tell me about him, he seems like he's got a good head on his shoulders."

"He's scared," Will said. "The jocks are harassing him, calling him names. Because he's in Glee and football."

"Nothing changes, does it."

Will heard all the years of dealing with bullying in Toby's light, sweet voice, of being beat up and dumped in trash cans and probably worse things he'd never told Will. "I think it could," Will said, softly. "I think it could change."

"Because of teachers like you," he said, and Will felt a flush of shame beginning at his throat and rising over his face, like a wave.

"I could do more," he admitted, thinking of Puck.

"You could," Toby agreed. "But what you do still makes a difference. Now, tell me. What's this about the baby?"

"Terri," Will said, and he burst into tears. The words flowed easily now, as he told Toby about the pregnancy pad, and the faked sonogram, and Quinn's baby. "There was no baby," he said, leaning his head into his arm. "There  _was_  no baby, Toby. I'm not going to be a father. All that – it was all lies."

"It'll happen someday, Will." Toby sounded so calm, so loving, that Will felt like yelling at him.  _As_ _if_ _Toby_ _had_ _done_ _something_ _wrong,_  he thought, and that immediately quelled any anger he was feeling toward him. If anyone  _hadn_ _'_ _t_  done anything, it was Toby. Toby had always been the one to pull him back together when things went to shit.

"She was lying to me the whole time. She said – she said she could feel me pulling away, and this was her way to try to keep me."

"Her logic totally fails me there," Toby said dryly. "You think you were pulling away?"

"She said… our marriage works because I don't feel good about myself." The flush of shame was back, heating his forehead. He felt like he was about to set the mattress on fire.

"That Terri. She's an observant one." Toby sighed, quietly. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

"I really loved her," Will said.

"I know you did," Toby replied. "You did. A long time ago. Hell, we were just kids."

Will blew his nose and threw the tissue on the floor, by the risers. He'd pick it up in the morning before the kids arrived. "I know."

"I can't believe you're not a little bit relieved about this."

" _Relieved?_ _"_ Will sat up, incredulous. "How could I be relieved about it? My marriage is a wreck; we're in a mountain of debt; the baby girl I'd been preparing myself to take care of is just… a  _figment_ of my imagination… and now I'm sleeping on the floor of the choir room. I don't even know where I'm going to be living tomorrow."

"But it's all out in the open now," said Toby. Will heard him whistle for Annie, open the screen door, and shut it again. "The lies – isn't it better to have them done with?"

Will ran both hands through his hair. "They're not  _all_  done," he whispered. "You know it."

"That's always been up to you," Toby said. "You get to decide what to do about that."

He took a deep breath, sinking into the mattress. "You never give me the answers, Toby," said Will, pushing through the emotion to make his voice heard. "You just help me see the truth, and let me make up my own mind."

"Isn't that what good teachers do?" He was teasing him, but his words were solemn.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess they do."

"You got that red tie I gave you for Christmas last year?" Toby said.

Will rolled over to lie on his stomach, his head on one fist. "Sure," he said.

"You should wear that in the yearbook this year."

He laughed without humor. "I did," he said. "Terri said the same thing."

"It looks good on you."

"I love you," Will said, and bit his lip.

"Darlin'…" There was a pause, and then Toby's voice, like a silk robe around his shoulders. "It doesn't matter what happens with Terri, or anything else. I'll always be here. This is me talking, now."

"I know," he whispered.

"You know I'll always love you, Will."

"Yeah." The neck of his shirt was too tight, and he loosened a button. "I'd better go."

"You know things will look better in the morning. You crazy morning people." The affection in his voice was too much for Will to handle.

"Talk to you later, Toby." Will hung up before he could hear anything else, before Toby's voice could undo him any further. He lay on his side, clutching his phone to his chest, staring at the wall. He clenched his teeth together until his jaw hurt. He thought about Toby sitting at the table, petting Annie, rubbing her soft ears, about how he'd be going back to bed in a minute, and how he probably wasn't alone.

For a moment Will pretended he was lying in Toby's bed, on the right side, where he always slept when he stayed with him. He could smell Toby's scent on the covers. He could feel the warm spot at the foot of the bed where Annie had been, just moments before Toby had banished her to sleep under the kitchen table. He thought of Toby leaning over him, putting a kiss on his cheek, before stretching out to sleep on his back, one foot sticking out from under the blanket, the other foot tucked up against Will's leg. He knew if he reached out his hand, he'd be able to lay it right over Toby's heart and feel it beating.

 _Good night, darlin'._

"Good night, Toby," he said, and closed his eyes.

* * *

 

**2009, Denver, CO**

Toby was under no illusions. He'd always known precisely what he would and would not get from his relationship with Will. He knew that he'd get a weekend every six or eight weeks, and if he was lucky a week in the summer. Late night phone calls, Will whispering in the bathroom while Terri slept, or speedy afternoon ones with each of them on speakerphone in their cars, Toby on his way to teach and Will on his way home. Christmas cards and birthday presents, and endearments both whispered and unsaid.

Toby never pushed. Things had worked out okay all this time. He had theater, and Annie, and his teaching and his friends. He loved his little bungalow in an emerging North Denver neighborhood, where he could stop at the corner café for a coffee and muffin on his way to the dog park with Annie. On the nights he didn't have a rehearsal or performance, he took class in whatever format was available, and on weekend nights he would go downtown to Charlie's and dance because there was no way anybody was going to take the Kentucky out of this boy. In the early years, he'd taken boys home to fill the empty space in the bed that he always thought belonged to Will, but now it was just Colin.

Now it was Colin who spent most nights in Toby's bed, Colin who walked Annie early, before he went to work and left Toby sleeping. Colin's hands and mouth that woke Toby, searching.

Now it was Colin who was pushing for all the things Toby never had because, yeah, he'd been understanding about the man he called Toby's "part time trick" for over two years, but Toby knew it was getting old.

"He's stringing you along," Eric scolded over brunch one September Sunday, in between the drag-bedecked waiters bringing a last round of coffee and their standard haggling over the check.

"You're just going to get hurt," Lilly told him for the hundredth time as they  _shuffle-ball-stepped_  in the corner of the small practice studio while the choreographer put the chorus through the wringer.

Toby heard what they said and what they didn't. What he and all his friends knew. The one thing Toby was never going to get from Will.

Will was never, ever going to leave Terri. Toby had been sure of that since they were sixteen, just as he'd been sure from fourteen and his first kiss that he was irrevocably in love with Will and nothing, not even a wife, was going to change that.

Until now.

Toby let his phone fall to the table, and he sat in the dark rubbing the soft fur between Annie's ears, still hearing Will's voice in his ears. Annie tensed, and Toby waited through the hushing of the bedroom door opening until Colin's shadow was illuminated in the blue haze of light from the coffee maker.

"Where's the fire?" He filled a glass of water from the tap and set it in front of Toby before settling behind him and placing his warm hands on Toby's shoulders.

"Ohio." Toby was careful; anything doing with Will, and Toby's relationship with Will, had been like fuel for Colin the past few weeks.

"Do I even want to know?" Colin's broad Boston accent was pronounced, the way it always was when he was tired, or in the hazy aftermath of sex. Colin loved it, so different from the rolling Kentucky vowels he'd never been able to shake.

Toby's life was an open book. His close friends knew all the details, and while Colin knew a lot, Toby had been holding things back the past few months, especially after Will had called with the news that Terri was pregnant. Toby hadn't wanted another person to echo the thoughts in his own head:  _now_ _he_ _'_ _s_ _really_ _never_ _going_ _to_ _leave_ _her._  He didn't want a reason to end things. "Probably not. Just stuff with his wife."

"I can't believe you've held onto this for so long." Colin sounded weary, and Toby knew it had nothing to do with interrupted sleep.

Toby turned in his chair and caught and held Colin's blue eyes. "I'll always hold on."

"He's stringing you along. You're his secret, his boy on the side. You deserve more. You deserve  _better_  than that, Tobes, because  _you_ _'_ _re_  better than that." Colin's voice was bitter; Toby knew he resented the odd pull that Will had on Toby.

"I love him, Colin. I've loved him since I was fourteen, before that, even. If it had just been a summer fling, some teenage hook up, I would have walked away years ago. But I fucking love him, and I knew what I was getting when I agreed to his terms. I walked in with my eyes wide open, and I'm not ready to walk out yet."

Colin pulled away like he'd been burned. He turned and began moving around in the dark, searching for his jeans and t-shirt where they'd been discarded in the living room before they'd managed their way up the hall.

"I think I should go. I'm afraid I might say something I'm going to regret, and I love you too much to hurt you like that." Toby heard unspoken words linger in the cool air.  _I_ _won_ _'_ _t_ _hurt_ _you_ _like_ _he_ _will_. Toby watched Colin tug his shirt over his head, pull his jeans over his hips. He stuck his feet into his sneakers and snatched his coat off the rack by the front door. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Toby sighed through the distance. "Yeah."

"And Tobes?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you love him. I get that. Just . . .  _Christ_." Colin ran a hand over his face. "If you love him like you say you do, stop settling. Don't just accept things on his terms. If he loves you, he'll understand."

"And if he doesn't understand?" Toby was surprised with Colin's frankness.

"Then he's just being selfish." Colin slipped out into the night, and closed the door without a sound.

Toby sat up at the table with Annie at his feet for the rest of the night. In the morning, he made some phone calls.

Maybe Colin was right. If Toby was really in love with Will, it was time to fight for him.

Toby always knew, the instant he stepped onstage, that Will was out there, somewhere, watching. It happened once or twice a summer; Will never said a word, and Toby never betrayed what was clearly a secret. He wondered, though, if Will actually thought that Toby wouldn't be able to feel the electricity that always coursed through them, when they were together.

He thought of those moments as he waited for Brad to answer his phone, because he needed someone to tell him that booking a flight into Dayton and getting a ticket to Sectionals was an incredibly bad idea.

"Toby?" Brad's voice was clear over the chattering of the kids in the background.

"Brad. Talk me down, before I do something stupid."

"You heard. He called you?" Brad was, always, understated. Like a rock. He'd always been, for Will and Toby both.

"He was pretty wrecked. I just- God. He's hurting. I was thinking, with Sectionals this weekend-" Toby could feel his voice pitching higher with nerves. Brad and Will were maybe the only people who didn't make him feel embarrassed about it.

"He won't be there. It's complicated, but he took a suspension instead of letting the kids be disqualified." Toby knew there was a lot that Brad wasn't telling him, but he figured if Will hadn't called to tell him himself, there had to be a reason. "Emma is going to take the kids instead."

 _Emma._ Of course. Because Will didn't have enough on his plate with Terri and Toby. "I just. I think I gave up something good."

"Colin?" Brad sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I told him I'd always hold on to Will. He didn't like that. Told me I was worth more than what Will has ever offered me."

Brad huffed a short laugh into the phone. "I take it he's never met Will. He gives you everything, he just doesn't realize it."

Toby dropped his head onto the back of the couch. "I need to make him see that. I'm going anyway."

"He won't know you're there." Toby could hear the cautious warning in Brad's voice.

"I don't care.  _I_ _'_ _ll_  know it. I can be there, cheering on his kids, even if he can't be."  _I_ _need_ _that_ _connection._

"You know," Brad sighed. "I had to talk him out of coming to see you a couple of weeks ago."

"He never said." That was just Will's way.

"He never does." The line went quiet for a moment, and Toby could hear Brad talking to Duncan and Cory, mediating a battle over toy trucks. "Sorry. Look, Toby. I won't tell you not to come. You can do whatever you want. Just- be careful. Okay?"

"I will. I don't always understand Will's reasons, but I'll respect them. He'll never know I was there."  _Just_ _like_ _I_ _'_ _m_ _not_ _supposed_ _to_ _know_ _when_ _he_ _comes_ _to_ _watch_ _me_ _dance_.

"If you need anything, let me know. At the very least, come to the house for dinner while you're here. Laurie and Andi would love to see you."

"I'll let you know when I set my plans. And Brad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Toby."

Toby sat in the dark, Annie's body warm against his leg, for over an hour before he worked up the resolve he needed to go online and book a ticket, Denver to Dayton, for Friday night. Brad's warning tone echoed in his ears, but it was overpowered by Colin's bitter voice.  _Fight_ _for_ _him_.


	12. 31 years, Denver, CO

  
**  
2009 - Now - Denver, CO   
**   


Will walked at night in Denver, when the moon was out and he could see his way in the dark.  He didn’t want to take a flashlight, because it hampered his awareness of other things: the sounds of animals moving slowly in their habitats, toads hopping ponderously on the sidewalk, the occasional fox or raccoon lumbering across the road.  He felt a part of things then, in a way he seldom did otherwise.  It was a connection to the night, and it was something he needed, when he was missing other things.  
  
It didn’t bother him when the night was cold.  He had his favorite green fleece, and even though the nights in Denver were chillier than in Lima, he liked the way it felt, to be out in the icy sharp night.  Walking kept his blood flowing, and he kept his hands in his pockets.  He had a warm hat.  And the longer he walked, the closer he felt to Toby.   
  
Toby taught dance at Denver School for the Arts, but only in the afternoon.  He had tried teaching mornings one year, but it nearly got him fired, as he just couldn’t manage to get up that early.  Will teased him about his inability to function before noon, but it was just a fact of life; in the same way that Toby had a high voice and was a spectacular dancer, his natural rhythm only allowed for him to be awake from twelve noon to four am.  The other eight hours, he was comatose, nearly impossible to be roused, and, if forced to get up during this time, obscenely bitchy.  So Toby taught afternoons, and at night, he danced.    
  
Sometimes Toby had a regular gig in a local show.  That was the easiest money, and kept his actor’s equity membership current.  Will enjoyed watching him from the audience, although he often was dancing with other lovers, which was a little awkward for Toby, since their agreement stipulated a clear  don’t ask, don’t tell  policy about Toby’s part time boyfriends.  Toby was mostly able to ward them away before things got difficult, but sometimes Will would leave by himself after a performance when it was clear that one lover or another was particularly annoyed by Will’s presence.   
  
It wasn’t Will being in Toby’s life to which they objected.  It was that Will was straight, and Toby was the gayest thing ever to grace the Colorado stage, and as far as the gay community in Denver was concerned, it was a whole mess of stupid for Toby and Will to keep trying to make it work.  But it had been – _God, was it really fifteen years?_ – and they were still together, still attending functions together, still going dancing at the club when Will was in town.  Still clearly in love, after all this time.  
  
Other times, Toby worked at the club, dancing for tips, and Will liked that a lot, because god, Toby was  _gorgeous_ _._  Watching Toby put himself on display, up on the stage, working the crowd, had led to some of the most blisteringly steamy sex of Will’s life.  He loved watching Toby from the audience, letting himself get nearly out of control with desire, until it was time to take Toby home, and maul him once they reached the parking lot.  Sometimes they didn’t even make it past the men’s room. Toby didn’t like the idea of Will risking his career for the sake of public sex, no matter how hot it was, but Will could be very persuasive.  
  
But sometimes, Toby danced for an escort service.  Toby never gave specifics, but Will interpreted “escort service” as “thinly veiled excuse for prostitution.”  Will didn’t feel good about this, didn’t like it at all, no matter how safe Toby claimed it was, and no matter how good Toby said the tips were.  One day Toby came home with a thousand dollar tip, and when Will had asked him what he’d done to earn it, Toby had asked Will if he really wanted to know.  Will had decided he didn’t.  They’d spent it on a weekend in Buenos Aires, one of the best weekends of his life, and he’d tried not to think too hard about what particular actions had funded their travel.  
  
On those nights, when Toby was out working, Will walked.  Even when it was bitterly cold, he just covered his ears and wrapped Toby’s muffler around his mouth, so he could smell his cologne, and put on his fleece jacket, and kept his hands deep in his pockets, and walked for a long time, into the night.  Sometimes he took Annie with him, stepping out on her leash, but mostly he went by himself.  Sometimes he was able to obliterate thoughts of Toby’s activities with loud music on his iPod, or by working through Glee arrangements in his head.  But mostly he kept to a simple mantra:  _Toby’s coming home.  Toby’s away now, but he’s still coming home.  He’s coming home to you._  
  
He wondered if Toby’s dancing had served a similar function for him, to block out the idea of Will in Lima, with Terri.  He sometimes wondered if Toby even really cared that Will lived most of his life in another city, with a wife, and a life he only knew about through phone calls and emails, and conversations with Brad and his wives.  Toby had never seemed too perturbed by Will talking about Terri, whether he was upset by something she’d done or telling a funny story about her.  But sometimes, when Will would wake up in the early morning, and Toby was sleeping the sleep of the dead, he would catch Toby in a bad dream, and the name on his lips was always  _Will,_ was never Colin or David or Michael or one of the other men with whom Toby shared his life the other days of the year, that Will wasn’t allowed to ask about, and about whom Toby never talked.   
  
That was their agreement.  When they were together, it was Toby and Will, and it was very much like they were newlyweds, snarking at each other over breakfast, going shopping, walking Annie, making slow, exquisite love at various times of the day.  Toby took Will to premieres, showing him proudly on his arm, and if Will never introduced himself to anybody, that seemed okay with Toby.  They went clubbing in other cities, behaving as though they were in their twenties, living a little dangerously but feeling armored with relative anonymity.  Toby’s neighbors knew Will by first name, and treated him as though he were Toby’s partner, or at the very least his long-term boyfriend.  It felt good to Will, felt ordinary and comfortable.  Being with Toby felt like _home._  
  
But when Will and Toby weren’t together, when Will was in Lima and Toby was in Denver, or wherever he was touring during the summer, Toby’s life was off-limits.  Will wasn’t allowed to ask what he did on his days off, or with whom he was spending his time.   
  
This was their agreement, because Will couldn’t give Toby what he really wanted.  He wasn’t going to leave Terri, because Terri was his wife, and Will stuck to his commitments.  And he really did love Terri, even if she was an insufferable bitch most of the time.  He really did love spending time with her, even though she was trying and cruel and full of spite.  He really did want to be part of her family, even though her sister was one of the most obnoxious people he’d ever met.  He wouldn’t have been able to explain  _why_ if Toby had ever asked, but Toby never did.  He just accepted this about Will, in the same way that he accepted that Will used the word “straight” to describe himself, when even in the same breath he was able to wrap his mouth around Toby’s cock.  He accepted that Will had no desire to  _be gay,_ or to leave his life in Lima to be with Toby.  
  
That didn’t stop Toby from asking him to change his mind, every time they saw one another.  He didn’t pressure Will, never made it more than an offer, or sometimes a teasing joke, when they were feeling particularly confident and secure in one another.  Will always declined, sometimes with good humor, other times with frustration and even anger.  But most of the time, that part of their visit passed without incident, and they were able to get on to enjoying the rest of the time they had together, before Will had to go back to Lima.  Toby always asked, and Will always said  _no, I love you, but I can’t,_ and that was it.  
  
That had been it, until this visit.   
  
Will knew this visit would be different, because Terri was no longer part of his life.  He had packed up his clothes and books and musical instruments and sports equipment and every part of his personal history, and removed as many traces of Terri from his life.  Then he had moved out of their house and into a cheap apartment.  Then he had called Toby, and asked to come home.  
  
Toby had not questioned this, had not even asked Will for specifics, just cleared his calendar for Will, had even taken one of his spare three-a-year personal days to be able to be with Will on the afternoon he arrived.  He'd held Will under the covers for hours while he cried and raged, and made him forget for a little while what was happening.  He'd listened while Will talked about his love for Emma, who’d become such an important part of his life, and his fears for the future. Toby had loved him as best as he knew how, and had let him insinuate himself into Toby’s life, even to go so far as to stay at Toby’s house through the middle of the week -- something he’d never done before.  
  
And now it was coming up on five days together, the longest they’d ever spent under one roof together in a single stretch, and it was still wonderful.  Even when they argued, they did it cleanly, without malice, and the sex was brilliant and sweet.  

Will knew Toby was getting ready to ask him, as he always did, to make a change in his life.  And, for the first time, Will had  no idea  what he was going to say.  Because when Will tried to think of a single reason why he  _wouldn’t_ want to spend the rest of his life with Toby, to be his partner and lover and friend in all things, to give him the freedom to stop dancing for tips (should he desire to do that), to spend every night in the space on the right side of his bed – he could only think of one.  

  
It was a big one: that he would, after all, miss his life in Lima, would miss Glee club terribly, not to mention Brad and Laurie and Andi, and Emma.  Oh, he would miss Emma.   But he could not say with certainty that he would not miss Toby more, and if Toby asked him, as he had been asking for fifteen years, to make a choice, he was not sure what that choice would be.   
  
So he walked, into the night, and lost himself in the walking, still reciting his mantra,  _Toby’s coming home, he’s not here now, but he’ll be home soon, he’s still coming home._   And, sometimes, just for effect, he would change it up, trying it on for size:  _you’re coming home, this is your home, you can stay, it’s your home._  
  
It didn’t feel bad at all.  


  
\---

 _ **This Is Me**  
Words And Music By  
Cheryl Wheeler  
[ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OBeMH1_W8g ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OBeMH1_W8g)   
  
Some days, I can tell  
You are holding back the river with a broken dam  
And sometimes, do you feel  
like you're riding with the wrong reins in your hand?  
Don't tell yourself you have used up all your chances  
This is me talkin’ now  
This is me who loves you still  
And you know I always will  
  
Some things never change  
You were always just the one I couldn't live without  
I can't turn some page  
And pretend it's all undone and I don't love you now  
You close your eyes, and remember what I told you  
This is me talkin’ now  
This is me who loves you still  
And you know I always will  
  
Let it go, little darlin’  
Go on back to sleep  
There are no bridges burning  
Between you and me  
  
We have years to fill  
And all the days behind us for believing in  
And we have tales to tell  
And we would always have Paris -- if we'd ever been  
I feel your heart, beating true across this distance  
This is me talkin’ now  
This is me who loves you still  
And you know I always will_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Just That Side of True, but it is by no means the last chapter you will see of Will and Toby. You know why? Because we've already written four other chapters in the *next* story! Keep your eyes open for the continuing adventures of Will and Toby -- and they, along with Brad and his family, have already popped up in Bending in the Archer's Hand. Toby has a whole chapter of his own coming soon. Thanks so much to those of you who have commented on your love for these characters! They have captured our hearts and we are so happy to share them with you.  
> -amy and knittycat


	13. Three Christmases

**Christmas, 1995 (Senior Year), Louisville, KY**

Toby invited Will down to Louisville for his first big break: a production of Singin' In the Rain, in which he was cast in the leading role as Don Lockwood, by the Kentucky Repertory Theatre. Toby said the director was taking a big risk by casting an unknown kid in the lead. "But he says risk is what theater is all about," Toby said, when he called Will to tell him about the part. His voice was high and bright with excitement.

"I'm so proud of you, Toby," Will said, and he swore he could hear Toby beaming at him over the phone.

"Will you come down to see the show?" he asked.

Will blinked. He'd never been to Kentucky to see Toby in anything. His mother was less than thrilled about their friendship, but she might not stop him from taking a road trip, as she'd expressed more than once the thought that he needed to have more adventures before high school was over. He suspected this had more to do with her own dearth of adventures in high school than a desire for Will to get his party on, but he appreciated her encouragement. Suddenly it sounded like a great idea.

"Sure," he said. "I'd love that. Maybe Brad and I can come together. I'll ask my mom."

It only took a little persuading to get Will's family to agree to drive the two boys down to Louisville, especially when Will pointed out it was for a cultural event. "Watching  _Singin' in the Rain_  is about as wholesome as you can get," Brad added, and his parents agreed to let him go along.

In the end, it was Will's father who drove them, professing a love for Gene Kelley's Don Lockwood over all other, but willing to humor Toby's interpretation of the role. "Is Toby a good actor?" he asked the boys riding in the back seat.

"Toby? Yeah - I mean, I think so," Will said, looking to Brad for confirmation, who nodded. "I thought he did a good job in  _Cats_ last year."

"He's really a dancer," Brad qualified. "I think he wouldn't call himself an actor, not really."

Will's memory traced Toby's roles back through high school and middle school: his chorus and swing parts in community theater; his appearances in the Nutcracker, first as one of the children, then a mouse warrior, and most recently as the young Nutcracker - Will had felt absurdly, ridiculously proud to see him dance that role - but precious few acting parts. And, for god's sake, he was  _not_  thinking of Toby in tights, especially not with his father and Brad sitting right there in the car.

"I guess he's got to be good, or he wouldn't have gotten the part?" Will said, but it was a question for which he had no answer. He wasn't really sure what to expect, either from Toby's acting - or from Toby himself. Toby had sounded excited to have him come to Louisville, but this would be the first time Will had visited Toby in his city, and Toby had always been reluctant to have him come down before.

_I'm not the same person at home as I am with you, in the summer,_  Toby had told him once.  _You wouldn't like me much._ Back then Will hadn't quite known what that meant, had been too naïve to understand, but he got it now. When he'd left home at fourteen, Toby had  _done things_  with other boys, and men, for money. Now he was supporting himself with more performance jobs, but... Will wasn't really sure if he  _wanted_ to know if that was still true for Toby.

Will's dad took them to dinner before the show, and over pasta Brad and Will talked musicals. Will was surprised to discover his dad knew a lot about Broadway. It wasn't something they'd ever talked about before. "Before your mom and I got married, I used to do community theater," he said. "I mostly worked backstage, but I had a few small parts. Your mom was pretty good, too."

"Mom?" Will said, his eyes big and his mouth full of noodles. "God. I can't believe it."

"That's how we met, actually," said his dad. "She played the mother in Bye Bye Birdie. I was one of the stage managers." His gaze went far away, and he sighed wistfully. "It was a good role for her."

Brad looked like he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around Will's mother in theater. He raised an eyebrow at Will's dad. "But she doesn't like to go to see shows, now?"

"No," he agreed. He scrawled a signature on the dinner check and tucked his credit card back into his wallet, sighing again, this time with more finality. "She didn't want to be reminded of how things were when we were in school. Bad memories." He smiled at the two boys with false cheer. "We should get going. Don't want to miss the curtain."

They had excellent seats, and the theater was small enough that some of the actors were helping set up the stage, but Will didn't see Toby anywhere. He felt jittery, as though he were the one about to go in front of the audience. Brad gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

"He'll be fine," he whispered, as the pit struck up the overture.

And, actually, he was. Will wasn't sure what he'd been afraid of, but Toby was exactly what Will remembered: a confident, spectacular dancer, a perfectly passable singer and a reasonably good actor. What Will hadn't realized was how Toby's voice, that gentle, sweet voice, was going to affect him. From the first moment that Don Lockwood set foot on the stage and said, "Lina and l have no statement to make now. We're just good friends," Will felt a lump form in his throat, and when he sang, "Fit as a fiddle and ready for love" with Cosmo, like brothers, the tears began. He was able to keep them under control until Toby sang "Beautiful Girl." Toby's suave smile went straight to Will's gut as he said, " _You've got those lips_  /  _That were meant to be kissed,"_ and Will found himself struggling to his feet and stumbling to the men's room to bawl his eyes out before the first act was even finished.

It was his dad who came to get him, as he was splashing cold water on his face, his tie loosened and his breathing ragged. Will didn't say anything, and his dad didn't make him. It was nice to have it that way, with his dad. Will seldom needed to explain things around him.

"It's intermission now," his dad said quietly. "You want a few more minutes?"

"No, I'm okay now," Will replied, and his dad gave him a half-hug of support as he straightened his clothes and recovered his public face.

"He's good," his dad said. "You're right; he's a better dancer than he is a singer, but I don't think he's bad at all."

"No," Will said, his eyes fixed on a point in front of him. "He's... he's not bad."

With the aid of a couple tissues and Brad's calming presence, Will was able to make it through the rest of the performance with a minimum of disruption. They rose to their feet in a perfunctory standing ovation, but not many joined them, and the audience quickly shuffled out of the theater.

Will and Brad hovered outside the green room until they saw Toby, still in stage makeup, come through the door from the dressing room. Will's heart skipped a beat, but he hung back, conscious of his red and swollen eyes. He wondered if he could blame it on allergies this time.

Toby closed the distance between them, offering a brief hug for Brad before he pulled Will in for a tight embrace. He buried his face into the collar of Will's coat and whispered into his ear. "Thank you for coming, darlin'."

"You were great," Will said, pulling back. He could feel the pasted-on smile fit like a mask over his confusion and anxiety, and hoped Toby wouldn't be able to tell. "Really."

"Eh. I was fair to middlin' at best. I know I'm not the best actor, and my voice... But thank you for sayin' I was good." Toby ran a hand over the back of his neck before shrugging. "It's a credit towards my Equity card, regardless."

Will followed Toby's hand over his neck with his eyes, and felt a powerful urge to grab him there and pull him into a kiss. He cleared his throat and flickered his gaze to his father, who was standing quietly by the door, not in any hurry, but also not watching Will too closely. "It's a job, right?"

"Mmmmm." Toby's eyes danced, flirting with Will, and Will felt his blush deepen at the suggestion in his expression. "Beats turning tricks, don't it?"

"Toby," Will hissed, but Toby reached out and took his hand, tugging him across the room.

"Let me introduce you to my director," he urged. "He's got connections all over the midwest. You're gonna love him."

But Will could feel himself closing off to the possibility that Toby was dangling before him, and when Toby introduced him as "This is Will, my -" he interrupted with the words "old friend" before Toby could go there. He caught Toby's reproachful look, but he just ignored it and shook the director's hand, smiling tightly.

"Toby's a real rising star," said the director. "We're lucky to have him."

Toby ducked his head for a moment, which Will thought was uncharacteristically reserved, but when Toby caught his gaze again, his eyes were on fire and his cheeks were high with color, even under his makeup. He wasn't being modest, or anything even close; he was high on the compliment and adrenaline. Will could feel the energy coursing through Toby - and he desperately needed to feel it trained on  _him_.

The director made small talk with Toby for a few brief moments, and when he moved on to talk with someone else, Toby turned and grabbed Will's arm. Will looked at Brad, unsure of what to do, but Brad just rolled his eyes and nodded for Will to go. In the split second before Toby wheeled him through the door to the dressing rooms, Will caught Brad engaging his dad's attention, giving Toby and Will time to escape.

The dressing room was blissfully deserted, and Will took the opportunity to bury his hands in Toby's hair, clipped short for the part, and pulled him into his arms.

"You're going to get makeup all over your suit, darlin'," Toby gasped against his mouth, but Will wasn't listening, was losing himself in the decadence of Toby, Toby in the  _winter,_  a full six months before he would normally be able to touch him. He firmly turned his mind away from the conflict he'd felt in front of Toby's director and let himself grasp and stroke and thrust, until Toby was moaning into his shirt.

"You were so hot up there," Will groaned. "I - I love watching you perform. God; you have no idea what that does to me."

"I seem to remember," Toby said, grinning, leaning into Will's touch. "And I think I can tell what it did for you tonight." Toby's hand drifted low, dangerously close to Will's belt buckle, and Will bucked his hips without thinking about it. That seemed to spur Toby on, because it took Will a hazy moment or three to realize that his belt was  _undone_ , and  _oh._

"Toby - wait, stop!" He clutched his hands around Toby's arms, which was an experience all by itself, because Toby's biceps,  _god._  He shook his head and drove Toby back against the wall, knocking the breath out of him. They glared at each other through the trembling of their bodies, above the overwhelming passion, and Will was able to let him go and step back a few paces. He closed his eyes and tried to recover a degree of control. "What the hell, Toby?"

"We both want each other. Don't you dare deny it, Will." Toby's words were smoldering.

"I'm not one of your chorus boys," he spit out, letting the frustration and confusion color his words. Toby flinched, looking wounded, but Will was too worked up to care. "What makes you think I would do -  _that -_  with you?"

"Will,  _darlin'_ , we've been foolin' around and tip-toein' around this for years. Just fucking get over yourself already."

"God, Toby," Will shouted, lashing out, right in Toby's flushed face. "When are you going to get it through your head? I'm not a goddamn faggot, okay?"

Toby reeled back like he'd been struck, and Will took the opportunity to skirt around him towards the door. He had his hand on the knob when Toby was suddenly there, full against him, slamming him back against the wall. Will could feel Toby shaking with anger.

"You, of all people, have  _no fucking right_  to call me that. You're a hypocrite, Will. A damn closeted hypocrite." His words were needles, right in Will's ear.

Will flinched back, but was frozen in place, unable to move away from the force of Toby's wrath. "I'm not," he demurred, but his voice was weak, uncertain. "You can't make me be something I'm not."

"I'm not tryin' to make you something you're not.  _God_ , you're infuriating. I'm tryin' to get you to see what's  _right_  in front of you." Toby pulled back scant inches and ran a hand over his face. The minute distance seemed to give him a slightly clearer head, and when he rested his forehead on Will's shoulder his voice was gentle again. "Will. Darlin'. You're fuckin' breakin' me. I love you, and I know you love me, and the fact that you can't admit is is killing me. You tell me all the time that you're not gay. But here's the thing, Will. What we've been doin' all these summers? That ain't  _not gay_. And I don't know how much more I can take. You can't be  _not gay_  and still do those things with me."

Will felt the fear burst forth, and the rush of energy broke him out of Toby's spell. He staggered a little, and met Toby's surprised eyes with his own, full of anger and regret. "Well, then," he said, the words bitter on his lips. "I guess we're done."

He turned around and strode back to the green room without another word, feeling the door inside him shut and lock. He brushed past Brad and his father, back into the hallway, and managed to make it to the coat closet before he fell apart, tears hot and acrid on his cheeks.  _We're through,_  he thought, brushing the tears away angrily _. After eight summers of fooling around, it's time I grew up._

* * *

**Christmas, 2009, Denver, CO (14 years later)**

"It's strange, being away from the kids," Brad said, straightening his tie. "It's almost sinful, the feeling of being completely removed from responsibility for a night." He took a deep breath and fixed his shoulders.

"You hate it," Will said, grinning.

"Yeah," agreed Brad. "But I'll make it through to intermission before I have to give them a call."

Will glanced across the reception hall with a twinge of anxiety, but it was only a little one. Toby had performed this show at least a dozen times already. Will was glad to be able to make it to his final performance.  _The last one,_  he thought.  _The last one before Toby leaves Denver... before he comes to Ohio, for real._  The thought was familiar enough by now, but it still thrilled him, and terrified him, all at once.

When the lights flickered, Will and Brad walked together into the theater, and took their seats; Will was pleased to see that most of the seats were full. "Toby said there were going to be some big name hotshots in the audience," Brad murmured in Will's ear. "I doubt it'll matter much to him, though, if he's serious about this job in Akron."

"Oh, he'd better be serious," Will said with a smile. "He put a down payment on a house last week."

Brad's eyes flew open, but he couldn't get another word in before the orchestra began. Will chuckled at Brad's discomfiture, and he settled back to enjoy Toby in the familiar role, performing Will's favorite musical.  _It doesn't get much better than this,_  he thought with satisfaction.

Because Toby was  _fantastic._  He'd grown as a performer in a million tiny ways since that long-ago show in Louisville, his stage presence more solid, his humor both broader and more focused. He was getting every laugh from the audience, outshining his co-star without even trying. Toby's dancing had always been flawless, but tonight he positively sparkled, every pirouette and jete a stunning display of talent.

And Toby's voice... it had been a while since Will had heard Toby perform on stage, though they sang to each other on a regular basis, over the phone and in the privacy of Toby's house, and just last week at Brad's. Will thought, with surprise and shock, that Toby must have been taking classes in his precious free time, because he filled the wide auditorium with a rich, full sound that Will had never heard from him before. Will's critical ear couldn't find one flaw in Toby's performance. It wasn't that Will was biased - though, of course, he  _was -_ it was that Toby was just that good.

"I think he knows where we're sitting," Brad whispered. "He keeps looking over here."

Will couldn't see how that was possible under the glare of the stage lights, but it did seem to be true. Toby wasn't distracted from his performance, but it was as though he was directing all his most meaningful lines right at Will. And when it came time for Toby to sing Will's favorite song, Will just had to gulp and hang on, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket, because Toby's voice got under his skin and made his breathing go funny.

_[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5-w4yoGqG0&](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5-w4yoGqG0&%20) _

_Life was a song_  
 _You came along_  
 _I've laid awake_  
 _The whole night through_  
 _If I but dared_  
 _To think you cared_  
 _This is what_   _I'd say to you_  
 _You were meant for me_  
 _And I was meant for you_  
 _Nature patterned you_  
 _And when she was done_  
 _You were all the sweet things_  
 _Rolled up in one_

Brad put a comforting hand on his shoulder and offered Will a tissue, and Will took it gratefully. "You're a big sap, Will," Brad said, and Will kicked his ankle, but it was only a halfhearted effort. His attention was riveted on Toby, singing his heart out, because Will knew every word was for him.

_You're like a plaintive melody_  
 _That never lets me free_  
 _But I'm content_  
 _The angels must have sent you_  
 _And they meant you_   _just for me_

The performance went off without a hitch, and the audience brought down the house with their applause, including three curtain calls. This time the standing ovation was completely deserved. Brad and Toby clapped until their hands hurt, and Will sent a piercing wolf whistle to Toby as he bowed for the second time. He knew the sound got through, because Toby threw him a kiss.

"I'm going to get the flowers from the fridge in the green room," Will said. "I'll find you guys backstage."

Will wound his way through the excited audience, listening to their comments about how excellent the man playing the role of Don had been. He heard one woman declare he was "the heir to Gene Kelly," and he laughed to himself, thinking of his dad. He'd give him a call later that night and tell him about the show. His dad was always happy to hear about Toby.

Ducking into the green room, he waved at several familiar faces, regulars in the Denver theater scene. Behind the door of the refrigerator, digging out the dozen red roses in their bouquet from amidst the pile of Chinese food containers, he heard a bitter laugh, and a voice he knew said, "He's here tonight, isn't he."

_Colin._  They'd never been friends; it was against Toby's wishes that Will intersect in any way with Toby's other lovers, no matter how much a part of his life they became. Colin had been around for over five years. Will knew more about him than Toby would have appreciated him knowing. He didn't carry any animosity toward Colin, no matter how much he envied Colin's every day presence in Toby's life. He wondered if Colin knew Toby was moving to Ohio. Then, with a rush of fear, he wondered if Toby was going to continue to visit Denver, to keep seeing his other lovers. They hadn't talked about it, and Will wasn't sure he had a right to ask.

Will stayed behind the open fridge door, hoping Colin would go away. "You sure they're seeing each other right now?" asked another voice. "It's been such an on-again, off-again thing for so many years, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure," Colin said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Apparently a pipe dream in Ohio rates higher than a real boy in Denver. At least this real boy."

_They'd broken up,_  Will realized, and he was only a little ashamed of the flood of relief that flowed through him.  _Is he - could it be he's all mine?_

"Toby's dead gone over him, Colin," said the other voice. "You're never going to get him away from that man."

"If he weren't so fucking destructive toward Toby, I wouldn't mind him so much. But, god, it does wear thin after a while - that kind of devotion toward such a spineless, closeted prick as Will Schuester."

Will felt his blood turn to ice, and he straightened up before he could think, closing the door to the fridge. He clutched the bouquet of red roses before him like a weapon. "Excuse me," he said politely, his face belying his words. "May I get through? I have to deliver these roses to my  _boyfriend."_

He heard Colin's surprised chuckle, and the other man's gasp, as he pushed past to the door to backstage. "Well, well," Colin said. "Never thought I'd hear that from your lips, Will."

Will spun to regard Colin with disdain. "I bet my lips will do a lot of things  _yours_  will never do again."

"Nice," Colin said, acidly. "It's wonderful to know you've grown a spine, even if you're still a prick. As for the closet, I guess that remains to be seen. How are you planning to handle that in your hometown,  _Will?"_

"Toby and I will figure it out," he said. "It's not any of your business anymore. He chose me." Will felt himself smile, and it wasn't a kind smile. "He chose  _me."_

"Yeah." Colin shook his head. "You must be one sweet fuck, Will. I just don't see what else he can get from you that he can't get from me."

"Darlin'," said a familiar drawl, "if you don't know that, you don't know Will very well. Or me."

Will felt Toby's arm slip around his waist, the closest feeling to home he'd ever had, and Toby's soft lips pressed a kiss to his cheek. He blinked back the tears that threatened and stared defiantly back at Colin until the other man looked away, scowling.

And then he was in Toby's strong arms, his hands gripping Toby's back, squeezing his eyes shut, the feelings welling up and spilling over. Every fear, every anxiety he'd ever had about what this relationship meant about him, at least in that moment, was obliterated by the pulsing sensation of  _this is where I belong._

"You brought me flowers," Toby said, and when his astonished voice broke on the last word, Will began to cry.

Toby steered him to a corner of the green room, away from the performers and crew passing through, and petted him anxiously, watching his red and streaming eyes for a sign of what was wrong. Will was incapable of a response for several minutes, but eventually the flood subsided and he blew his nose messily into the proffered tissues.

"Are you okay, darlin'?" Toby said, running a hand through Will's unruly curls. Will shook his head and gulped air, trying to collect his thoughts.

"You're really going to give all this up - your community, your house, your job - to move to  _Ohio?_ " Will said plaintively, staring into Toby's face with dark, liquid eyes. "For me?"

Toby smiled, the stage makeup diminishing his youthful beauty not one iota. "You're worth fightin' for."

Ignoring the pancake and Toby's mild protests, Will clutched Toby's face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly, until their breath came in unison gasps and at least one passing cast member had made a witty comment about "even dolphins need to come up for air occasionally."

At last Will leaned their foreheads together. "I'll try not to let it go to my head," he said shakily. "But nobody's ever loved me the way you love me, Toby."

The tenderness in Toby's sweet voice was the most welcome sound in the world. "Nobody ever will, darlin'."

* * *

Later, beside the fireplace in Toby's family room, surrounded by half-full boxes and the detritus of packing, that conversation with Colin came back. Will told Toby about the exchange, and Toby looked sadly impressed.

"But, Toby," he sighed, swirling the dregs of his wine, "what  _can_  I give you that you can't get from Colin, or any other man, for that matter? I mean... how good am I for you, really?"

"Will." Toby blinked sloe eyes. "It's completely a moot point. It don't matter how good we are for each other, when the truth is we can't bear to be apart. You and I, we're meant to be together, darlin'. We've got to start from that point, and go forward from there."

"I still don't know how I'm going to manage with you so close to Lima." Will gazed into the fire through the wine-streaked bowl of his glass as the coals burned down. "I might... freak out."

Toby chuckled, light and sexy. Will let himself get lost in the sound, and his smile came automatically to his lips. "I'm anticipatin' that, Will. I'll be okay. I've been dealin' with your freakouts for over fifteen years. You ain't thrown nothin' at me yet that I couldn't handle."

Will bit his lip and considered. "How about this?" He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small, square box, and set it on the coffee table in front of Toby. His eyes tracked Toby as he went still and silent, his smile disappearing. Toby touched the box with one finger.

"Ohh," he breathed, shaking his head. His lip trembled. "Will, what are you doin'?"

"I think if you have to ask, I'm doing it wrong," Will said. He heard Toby's breath catch as Will dropped to one knee in front of the couch. He took the box lightly in his fingers and held it out to Toby's stunned, shaking hands.

"Tobias Grey," Will began, and Toby put one finger over his lips.

"Just - wait," he whispered. "Wait until we're actually livin' in the same state. Wait until you come out to at least one friend."

"I already did that," Will said, smiling, brushing aside Toby's finger. "You're stalling."

"You're gonna ask," Toby said, with a note of panic. "And... I don't know what I'm going to say."

"Say yes," Will said, opening the box. The titanium band gleamed in the firelight, and as he took it out of its blue velvet enclosure and reached for Toby's left hand, Toby did not pull away. The silence in the room, punctuated by the hiss and snap of the fire, was heavy with possibility.

Will slipped the ring on Toby's fourth finger, and kissed his hand before pressing it to his cheek. "Marry me, Toby?" he murmured.

Toby closed his eyes, and took one long, final breath. "I've never been able to say no to you, Will." He smiled his crooked smile. "No reason to start now."

Any further words were lost in the pressure of Toby's lips on his. It wasn't until much later that Toby said the word, and repeated it over and over:  _Yes... yes... yes._

* * *

**Christmas, 2025, Lima, OH (14 years later)**

Toby dropped Will and Daniel off at the door of the funeral home. "I'll park and come in," Toby said, waving them on. "I want to make sure we're at the front of the line on the way to the cemetery - it's a complicated route, and you know Andi will get lost if she don't have someone to follow."

Will nodded soberly. "Good idea. I'll see you inside." He clutched Toby's hand briefly before he and Daniel walked up the cobbled path. Daniel hung back a little on the way in to the brick building.

"Is Grandma going to be there?" he wanted to know.

"Well, her body will be," said Will, and let Daniel hover just outside. "This isn't your first funeral. What's getting to you?"

"It's the first one where I really knew the person who... died," Daniel said. His ten-year-old gaze looked far too wise and far too scared at the same time.

Will ruffled his son's tawny curls. "It's okay to feel weird. Death is confusing to everyone, even adults."

Daniel nodded, and took the first step; Will followed him inside. They picked up a program; together they regarded the words  _Memorial - Deborah Schuester_  with solemnity. "How's Grandpa doing?"

Will smiled at his son's empathy, even in the face of his own conflict. "He's coping. It's hard to lose someone who's been in your life for so long. They were married over forty-five years."

"Whoa." Daniel blinked and considered that vast sum of years as his father ushered him into the viewing room. It didn't feel like such a long time, to Will, now that he'd passed forty - would hit fifty in just a few more years, to tell the truth - but he had a pang of regret that he would never attain forty-five years of marriage with anyone.  _Terri and I didn't even get to ten years, and Toby and I, we started a little late,_  he thought.  _Unless you count our fifteen years together as kids._

"Uncle Will," he heard from two voices, one high, one low, and was engulfed in a double hug.

"Dunc - Cory," he said, laughing. "Don't knock me over, now."

"Where's Jordan?" Duncan asked, the low voice - now quite low, since his voice had changed to a surprising bass.  _It's too bad he has no interest in singing,_  Will thought.

"Spending Christmas with Grandma Del Monico. It was too late to change the plane tickets."

"I'm so sorry about your mom," Duncan said. Will smiled gratefully at the teenager.

"She was sick for a long time," he said. "It's better this way."

"Do you miss her?" Cory asked, feathering her white-blonde hair back with her fingers. She was stylishly dressed as always, and the makeup she wore made her look about twenty-five years old, instead of the seventeen she was.

Will nodded. "My mom and I were never that close," he said. "Not like your moms and you are. But yes, I do miss her. I guess you never get over losing your mom." Suddenly he was perilously close to tears, and he turned away to straighten the flower arrangement rather than make the kids uncomfortable. "Danny, you guys don't have to wait around here. If you want to hang out with Duncan, you can go outside."

"I think I'd rather be with you, if that's okay," Daniel said quietly. Duncan waved and disappeared down the hall.

"He's going to smoke a cigarette," Cory whispered to the two of them conspiratorially, shuddering at the thought. "Disgusting."

"Yeah, well, I smoked them too, for a while. And I was a singer and knew better." Will glanced at the music Cory was holding. "Is that what you're going to sing today?"

"Yeah." She held up "Vissi d'arte" from  _Tosca._  "Dad said Grandpa Barry wanted something classical. I won the Mactel competition last month with this one."

"I hear you also got a juicy scholarship to B-W," he said, putting an arm around her. "You think you might go with music after all?"

"I don't know," she said with a dramatic sigh. "I love dance, but I like singing too, and the money is hard to turn down."

"Double major?" he suggested.

"Are you corrupting my daughter with the lure of the arts?" came Andi's caustic voice from behind them. A full head shorter than Cory, she remained a commanding presence. She tucked her arm around Daniel and hugged him.

"Hi, Aunt Andi," Daniel said.

"Whatever, Mom," Cory said, rolling her eyes and grinning. "With you and Dad already in music, I can't see how Uncle Will's opinion's going to matter all that much."

"Don't give me that crap," said Andi, grimacing fiercely. "You know you listen to your uncles way better than you listen to your parents."

"True," Cory said, with a wicked glance that looked so much like Toby that Will had to laugh. Brad's kids had gone through the question-and-answer with their parents long ago. Toby and Will were uncles, regardless, and Brad was definitely Dad, but Will loved those glimpses of Toby in his nephew and niece's genetics.

"Brad and Laurie are outside with your dad," Andi said. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get your voice warmed up." She kissed Will fiercely on the cheek and towed her daughter down the hall.

"Aunt Andi's kind of bossy," Daniel said, and Will laughed again.

"She's always gone for what she wanted. Good thing, too, or your cousins never would have been born."

Daniel had always been a thoughtful kid, but he was even more introspective than usual today.  _Something about funerals that brings out the thinker in people._  "How come mom's not here?" he asked finally.

_That might be too complicated for me, today,_  Will thought, and he kissed Daniel on the forehead. "She had another commitment, but she sent her love to Grandpa." He spotted Toby, Brad and his father coming in through the front door. "I'm going to sit and talk to Grandpa for a bit. You want to stay with me or go with Papa?"

"I'll go with Papa," Daniel said. He hugged Will, then went to hug Brad, and Will's father, before heading down the hall with Toby. Toby and Will exchanged quick glances, but after so many years of friendship, they didn't need more than that to understand what was going on with their son.

Will's dad's face was lined and drawn, but his eyes were dry and he seemed calm enough. It was hard to tell with him; he kept so much to himself, even more now, since he'd finished school and started working as a patent lawyer, than when Will was living at home. "She's all set in her casket?" he said, his voice quiet and sad.

"I didn't see her yet, but it looks like everything's been taken care of," Will said. "How you holding up, Dad?"

"Fair," he said. There was a strange resolute expression on his face. "I - there's something I need to tell you, Will."

Will glanced around, then took his father by the arm and led him to a bench out of the way of the approaching guests. "People are going to start coming in pretty soon. They're going to want to talk to you."

"This can't wait," said his dad, shaking his head. "No more. First you - then everyone. It's time."

Will's brow wrinkled and he watched his dad closely, concerned. He felt a sudden sense of vertigo, as though he were looking down at his father from a great height. "All right, dad. What is it?"

"It's about me and your mother," he began. His voice shook, but it quickly steadied, and became strong, stronger than Will had heard from his dad in a long time. "It started long before you were born, when we met in college. She and I - we loved each other. As best as we knew how."

"You don't have to tell me this," Will said, but his dad shook his head violently back and forth, and Will had to hold on to his arm to help him calm down.

"I do," he said. "I should have told you years ago. Things were different back then, Will. It wasn't easy for people. People like you."

"Like me?" Will said.

"Yes," his dad nodded, and took a resolute breath. "And... like me."

"Dad," Will breathed.

"Lots of us married girls," he said, his eyes pained, begging for Will to understand. "We didn't have any other way to be. There weren't any role models on television, just laughing stocks. No one in public office was telling the truth about themselves. In the theater... people knew, but it was never talked about outside the community. It was the biggest, worst-kept secret."

Will's head was reeling, but he realized he was less surprised than he might have been. "Mom knew?"

His father laughed. "Of course. She and Charles were friends, even before. He and I were in the service together."

"Charles." Will's eyes grew wide. "You mean -  _Uncle Charlie?"_

"You remember him." His dad's expression was intense, almost greedy, peering into Will's face. "What do you remember?"

"He - he took me to the circus," Will said, struggling. "I was five - kindergarten. The elephants were scary. He bought me a caramel apple." He sifted through his memories, blinking. "Um. He had warm hands that smelled like soap. He was - " Will swallowed. "He died, didn't he?"

"AIDS," said his father, lost in his own memories. "When you were seven. We had a quiet memorial for him, a little military funeral, but nobody knew outside our friends what was really going on. That's when we turned the guest room into a sewing room for your mother. We didn't - need it anymore."

Will regarded his father in horror. "Dad?"

"I'm telling you this now, because it's the truth," his dad said, firmly. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. That's not what I want. It's because - your mother always wanted me to tell you. And I was afraid." His smile hurt Will's heart. "When you and Toby finally - I was so proud of you, son. I was so glad that you were going to get to have what I didn't. You scared me when you two split up, but... it turned out okay. And there's Jordan and Daniel."

"You've been alone all this time," Will murmured, stunned.

"Not alone," his dad said. "Your mother, we were... she was always my friend. She never expected me to be more than I could be for her. And, of course, we had you." His father ruffled his hair, just as Will had done to his own son just minutes ago. "That was enough."

"But - there was no one else? No other - men, after Uncle Charlie?"

Will's dad shook his head. "I couldn't." He looked sadly at Will. "Could you imagine being with another man, if Toby died?"

"I - I don't know," said Will, thinking of the times in the past when he and Toby had been apart, all the many stretches of months and years, filled with other relationships, some of them meaningful, most of them not. "Maybe not. No one who mattered, anyway."

"Mr. Schuester?" The funeral parlor director interrupted them with an expectant glance. "We're going to get started with the memorial service. Are you wanting to say a few words?"

"Yes, thank you," his dad nodded. "I'll be ready."

"Dad," Will said quietly, "what do you want me to tell the kids? They're going to have questions."

"Well." His father squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. "I'm going to fix that right now."

The minister welcomed everyone and said a few pithy words about Will's mom that showed he'd never actually met her. Then it was Will's dad's turn. He cleared his throat and regarded the room, his shoulders square and his back tall. He looked at Will, sitting beside Toby, gripping his hand, with Daniel on the other side.

"Deborah was my best friend," Will's dad said. "But I'm here to recognize someone else, too; someone who passed long ago, but was part of our lives, and he deserves his memorial too. His name was Charles..."

* * *

_All That Matters - Mark Weigle_

<http://new.music.yahoo.com/mark-weigle/tracks/all-that-matters-6469199>

_Charles Anderson was my friend_   
_His clothes in our closet still smell like him_   
_All these years we kept two bedrooms_   
_The one we dusted and the one we used_   
_Guess we did that for all of you_   
_The truth is all that matters to me now_

_Wasn't he handsome today in his uniform?_   
_Just like the day he left back in '44_   
_All the while that he was over there_   
_We were brave, we were scared_   
_I always knew losing him would be more than I could bear_   
_The truth is all that matters to me now_

_Now I wait until they lay me down_   
_Next to him again in this ground_   
_I believe in the promised land_   
_And I believe that God understands_   
_Cause he made me to love Charles Anderson_   
_The truth is all that matters after all_   
_The truth is all that matters to me now_


	14. 46 years, Lima, OH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot of Will and Toby's life about fifteen years after season 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written as part of a present for knittycat's 1 year anniversary of writing fic. Several of us wrote 365-word pieces from various 'verses to celebrate. I'll have you know it's very hard to write a piece that's exactly 365 words long. The song that inspired it is longer than the fic!
> 
> This is my declaration, in the face of Will's stupidity and all the trials Will and Toby must face: when love is present, nothing is impossible. 
> 
> -amy

 

Toby kissed Daniel’s head and wiped away the tears that lingered on his freckled cheeks. “It’ll hurt for a while, darlin’,” he said, tucking him close.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a band-aid?”  
  
“N-no,” Daniel said, sniffing bravely.  He inspected the skinned, raw flesh of his leg with macabre curiosity. “Daddy says it’ll heal faster if I leave it open to the air.”  
  
Toby smiled.  “I guess your daddy knows what he’s talkin’ about, sometimes.  We’d best listen to him.”  
  
He helped Daniel hobble to their family’s blanket, where Jordan was sorting through the picnic basket, and sat him down with Brad’s folded-up sweatshirt under his knee.   “At least I scored a run,” Daniel said, smiling hopefully.   
  
Jordan found the oatmeal cookies and passed him one, biting into her own.  “Only one, before dinner,” cautioned Toby.   
  
“Sure, Papa,” Jordan said.  She leaned against his shoulder, and he put a hand around her slim teenage waist, feeling her pulse, her willowy limbs, mid-transition from childhood to adulthood, and watched Daniel eat his cookie.  How had they become so grown-up?  
  
“You know, I thought for sure Brad’s team was going to lose,” said Jordan, leaning back on her elbows in the early evening twilight, “but maybe with your run, Danny, they’ve got a fighting chance.”  
  
“Daddy’s up to bat!” Daniel yelled suddenly, sitting forward, his knee forgotten.  He clapped, sounding far too assured for a young man of ten.  They all put their hands together and cheered as Will stepped up to the plate.  He smiled and waved at them, tapping the bat in the dirt before his feet.   
  
Will had never been a good softball player, but somehow he managed to get a hit, and they all stood and clapped as he made his way to first, then second base -- before getting tagged out by Andi.  He returned to their blanket with a kiss and a sheepish grin for Toby.  The kids high-fived their dad.  
  
“Looks like we’re going to lose after all,” Daniel said with a cheerful shrug.  
  
“Not even close,” murmured Toby, burying his face in his husband’s neck.  “We won a long time ago.”  


* * *

<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PONGvKUpO5U>

_There was a man back in '95_   
_Whose heart ran out of summers_   
_But before he died, I asked him_   
_Wait, what's the sense in life_   
_Come over me, Come over me_   
_He said, son why you got to sing that tune_   
_Catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon_   
_Let an angel swing and make you swoon_   
_Then you will see, you will see_   
  
_Then he said here's a riddle for you_   
_Find the answer_   
_There's a reason for the world_   
_You and I_   
  
_Picked up my kid from school today_   
_Did you learn anything cause in the world today_   
_You can't live in a castle far away_   
_Now talk to me, come talk to me_   
_He said Dad I'm big but we're smaller than small_   
_In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all_   
_Still every mother's child sings a lonely song_   
_So play with me, come play with me_   
  
_And hey Dad, here's a riddle for you_   
_Find the answer_   
_There's a reason for the world_   
_You and I_   
  
_I said son for all I've told you_   
_When you get right down to the_   
_Reason for the world_   
_Who am I?_   
  
_There are secrets that we still have left to find_   
_There have been mysteries from the beginning of time_   
_There are answers we're not wise enough to see_   
_He said you looking for a clue, I love you free_   
  
_The batter swings and the summer flies_   
_As I look into my angel's eyes_   
_A song plays on while the moon is hiding over me_   
_Something comes over me_   
  
_I guess we're big and I guess we're small_   
_If you think about it man you know we got it all_   
_Cause we're all we got on this bouncing ball_   
_And I love you free_   
_I love you freely_   
  
_Here's a riddle for you_   
_Find the answer_   
_There's a reason for the world_   
_You and I_


End file.
